


The Band Fics Mix

by TheAllShipperKAZ2Y5



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer, 5SOS, One Direction
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bandom - Freeform, Barebacking, Biting, Blood, Bottom!Harry, Club AU, Controlling, Cop AU, Cuddles, Dancing, Drinking, Drugs, Established Relationship, Fantasy AU, Fluff, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Hair Pulling Kink, Horse Racing, Humor, Hybrid AU, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Insomnia, Kisses, Lost Voice, M/M, Muke - Freeform, Multi, Mutual Non-Con, Pain, Racing, Self-Harm, Sleepless nights, Smut, Student/Teacher, Sweetness, Talent Shows, Top!Harry, Top!Luke, Top!Michael, Top!Zayn, Tour Bus, Tour Bus Sex, Underage Rape/Non-con, Unfinished sex, Voice Loss, Voice blocking, basically everything, biting kink, bottom!Louis, bottom!Luke, bottom!Niall, bottom!Zayn, dancing au, drugs use, non-con, non-established relationship, pre-fame, prompts, school au, selective mutism, top!ashton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:09:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2172225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAllShipperKAZ2Y5/pseuds/TheAllShipperKAZ2Y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically any and every boy-on-boy mini-fic and prompt I can think of/I get.</p><p>Literally, just send me any prompts you want or put them in the comments and I'll get right on it. In the mean time I'll be filling it with all my own little fics and one-shots. </p><p>Obviously, the pairings must be homosexual and any pairing or multi-pairing between One Direction and 5SOS. Though of course they can have friends. Like Ed Sheeran or something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blah Blah Blah this is just the intro

La la la la la

All the good stuff comes after this ;)

**Please leave your prompts in this chapter so its easier to see them.**

**Please note that when I've done your prompt, the comment will be deleted so that I don't get confused.**

**I have recently noticed that one or two people I have filled a prompt for have (secretly) not been pleased with the result and asked someone else to fill it.  
I'm disappointed in myself that I didn't give them what they wanted. As such, I ask that you feel free to be as bossy and detailed as you want when requesting a prompt fill. Seriously, I am here to please and write what YOU want. Also, please do not hesitate to let me know if what I have written is not what you wanted. I'll re-write it for you in the way you wanted it written. **

****


	2. Fairy Floss Is Nice But You Can't Eat It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings]
> 
> Luke just really, really likes Michael's new hair.  
> Michael just really, really likes Luke.  
> (Fluff - Humor - Sweet little kissies - I really dunno)

" _Fucking hell, Clifford"_ is the greeting Michael gets, as well as a face full of Sprite. All in all he's pleased by the reaction. Prancing across the living room like a show pony and well aware of the crystal blue eyes that followed him, Michael plopped himself down on the couch and stretched out luxuriously with a breathy moan, before he melted down into the soft black leather boneless, his head lolling (He also took the chance to rub off the Sprite on his face). Slowly, he shut his eyes, letting his hair catch on his long lashes without brushing it away, like he usually would. 

He counts four seconds before there's the smack of hands on leather and he sinks even more under weight on his hips. Cracking one eye open slowly with a lazy cheshire cat smile because he knows he's won this round and he's a smug little fucker, Michael finds himself eye-balling two wide blue orbs about an inch from his own and Luke is heavy-breathing like he's either done some hardcore fucking or he's just run for his life from something very big and very evil. 

"What is this? Like-Whut...I mean really... _Michael!_ No seriously what the frickle" came falling out of Luke's mouth like a pissed newt falling off a rock and Michael would have snorted if it hadn't meant he'd be snorting right in Luke's face. Because by some bizarre fuck up in human logic, two guys can live with jacking off in bunks above/below each other and making no comment, but they can't snort within close proximity of each other. 

"Heeeeeey Lukey" Mikey drawled, all slow and long because taunting Luke is like getting to eat a whole jar of Nutella without being told off. (Because apparently that's what being an adult means and Michael  _loves_ it.) The reaction is just as good, because Luke kind of looks like someone just shoved an umbrella up his ass dry and then opened it, and the hands either side of Michael's head move to his hair, slender fingers sliding into the galaxy coloured locks slowly, twisting with a false gentleness before holding onto their handfuls with a stinging tightness that has Michael's spine arching, his eyes glittering and his plump lips open in a silent gasp that trails off into a breathy laughter.

"You have exactly thirty seconds to tell me what you did or I'll make you wish you never did it" Luke monotoned, and Michael knew he'd only love his punishment as much as Luke made him hate it. Still, nobody ever doubted Luke's threats and so he snapped to it. Or rather, dragged himself into it sluggishly.

With a gentle shrug, he rolled his head to the side a little more, tipping it slightly so he and Luke were very nearly mouth to mouth, eyes flickering from Luke's lips back up to his eyes as he spoke, all honey-thick sarcasm hidden behind teasing softness. "I dyed it. Duh" he purred, giving Luke his best 'what you gonna do 'bout it?' looks with as much innocent coyness as he could manage.

The result is Luke shifting his weight, keeping it off Michael as he raises his gaze to Michael's hair, all awed and silent before he began to slowly untangle his fingers, stroking them through the sleek, dark-purple-to-light-pink toned strands, carding them slightly over hair softer than silk and fluffier than cat fur. (The fans are right when they say aside from Harry Styles' curls, Mikey's hair is the best in the world).

"It's  _fairy floss_ " Luke murmurs, and it's literally like a little girls first trip to Disneyland. He just sounds so amazed that Michael can't resist reaching up, hands settling on Luke's hips lightly and head tipping up to mouth gently at the curve of his jaw, insistent but still rather meek, and Luke allows it, tipping his head down and catching Michael's thick lower lip with his teeth before giving him a gentle kiss in reward, then promptly pulling away to smush his face into Michael's hair.

"Um.." is the response it gets, a delicate 11's line appearing between Michael's brows as the soft, slow puffs of heat from Luke's breath fanned out through his hair. "It smells like berries and candy. It's fairy floss" Luke responds, stubborn, and Mikey frowns. "It's galaxy hair, not  _fairy floss"_ he chides because galaxy hair sounds so punk rock and fairy floss sounds like he spends his time planting roses and twirling in a white dress through meadows. Which was about as far from punk rock as you could get. (Well. Harry seemed to be able to manage a weird combination between punky sex god and six-going-on-eighteen curly kitten cupcake princess.)

"Fairy floss" Luke sing-songed back, and a moment later most of the warmth was gone and there was a sharp tug on one lock of hair that had Michael both wincing and biting back a whine. "G-Galaxy hair" Michael ground back, and then Luke pulled back completely, one hand grabbing a huge handful of flossy hair and using it the throw Michael down across the couch before Luke flopped down on top of him, tangling their legs together slowly. "Fairy floss and you know it" Luke hummed back, then promptly tipped his head up, teeth catching on the ends of Mikey's fringe and snagging gently, Luke tugging on the bright lock.

Which, naturally, prompted a shriek like an electrocuted pterodactyl from Michael, who shoved at Luke with mild infuriation.

" _You can't eat my fucking hair!"_ Michael screeched, and Luke winced at the un-manly pitch but nose-dived for his boyfriend again, hands going to his hair once more. Fingertips rubbing soothingly at Michael's scalp with a gentle tug on his hair now and then, Luke peppered light, sweet little kisses against the smooth expanse of milky skin that was Michael's left cheek before he pressed a light, almost shy one to the corner of his mouth with a coy expression and Michael was putty in his hands, slightly open-mouthed with his eyes shut and his hands helpless in Luke's shirt.

"Fairy floss, Mikey" Luke breathed into Michael's mouth, tipping his head slightly to lap at Michael's lower lip and all Michael can do is give a soft sound in response. It makes Luke smile, and he shifted his weight, hitching himself up a little higher on Michael's body to press their lips together, slow and sweet and firm, softness sliding against even softer plumpness and it seemed to go on forever as they cuddled until finally Michael murmured;

"Fine, but you can't eat it."


	3. Too Punk and Broody For Cuddles (But We're Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Michael Clifford/Zayn Malik]
> 
> Michael's too punk rock to be cheesy and Zayn's too brooding-band-artist to be sweet.  
> Except they aren't and they really love to cuddle.
> 
> {{ The prompt: Digite1  
> Fluffy michael and Zayn please :) }}
> 
> (Fluff - Kissing - Snuggles - Cuddling - PG-13 - Stomach Cramping Sweetness - Slight AU in that there is no Zerrie - Or Little Mix at all for that matter to make things work - Kind of Established relationship - Mentioned Larry Stylinson - Mentioned Lashtaill - Lashtaill is Ashton/Luke/Niall by the way - Mentioned Ciam - Which is Calum and Liam)

As wonderful as touring with eight of his favorite people in the world is, Zayn couldn't be more thankful that he's home. In truth, he got back to the UK yesterday, along with all of the other lads. (Bar 5 Seconds of Summer, who'd left the tour a few days early so they could come home sooner.) But they'd all agreed spending the night in a hotel would be easier than trying to get home at two in the morning with fans streaming outside all their houses,  _and_ the hotel. So Zayn had spent his first night on home turf buried under a puppy pile of grown ass men (boys).

A few hours, very teary 'see you later's' and a car journey later, and Zayn was pulling up outside his Bradford house, plaid over-shirt unbuttoned and driveway clear of fans. Shutting off the engine, he took a moment to lean back, eyes closed and breathing out a soft sigh of contentment as he listened to the peaceful silence, no screaming, no music, no nothing. Just the distant sound of cars and a bird or two up in the trees. It wasn't that he disliked the tour life. On the contrary, he loved it with all his heart. It's just sometimes, like he longed for home, they all also longed for just one peaceful night.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he shoved open his door, stretching out his arms as he slipped out, a light breeze ruffling his hair over his eyebrows and billowing his shirt around him as he swung the door to his BMW i8 shut and re-opened the back doors, pulling out his suitcase. All extra baggage had been transported home a day ahead of departure, for convenience. Looking back up at home once more, Zayn blinked slowly against the tickle of his hair on his lashes and then began the slow trickle across his driveway to the door.

Gently easing the key into the lock and turning it, Zayn pushed the door open quietly, not wanting to disturb this little bubble of peace he'd entered. Stepping inside and feeling the slight warmth of the house chase away the nip of the cold breeze behind him, he pushed his suitcase against the wall and shut the door with a quiet  _snick,_ sliding the lock on before turning to face his house again. There was a slight hint of Hugo Boss in the air, which made him think of Michael. He wasn't concerned about it and the fact that he didn't wear Hugo nor did any of the other 1D lads. He figured he was either imagining it or it was just from the security who'd dropped off his other bags.

With another soft sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and padded quietly into the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water and taking a long sip from it, before he set it back on the counter, relishing in the freedom and safety of being home again. Though really, this wasn't home anymore. The boys all said they couldn't wait to go home, but they all knew really that home was with each other. Be it on the road, on stage or when this was all over. Where they really belonged was together. And now they had the 5SOS lads, home just got cosier.

Smiling slightly at his own listless trail of thought, he shook his head before he turned and strolled across the hallway, the scent of Hugo Boss still there as he stepped into the living room, heading for the TV remotes.

And promptly stopping when he noticed the lithe, lilac-topped body sprawled out on his couch, emerald eyes twinkling at him and plump lips curved into a grin. "Heyya" Michael greeted cheekily, shifting from his couch-potato-slouch to sit upright, elbows on his knees and hands clasped, looking up at Zayn with a mixture of affection, delight and guilt. Zayn shifted his weight, head raising slightly as Michael moved around, and the silence in the house returned for a few moments.

"A'rite?" Zayn asked back, Bradford accent bleeding in thick and he tucked his hands into his jean pockets, offering Michael a shy, affectionate smile in return, and Michael visibly relaxed a little. No doubt having been concerned at intruding on Zayn's first day back. "Yeah" Michael grinned, slightly breathless and sounding happy, grinning up at Zayn dazzlingly again for a moment. And this time the silence was relaxed, happy.

"Y'wanna... go up?" Zayn asked, shrugging lightly and motioning with a soft jerk of his head towards the direction of the stairs, and Michael nodded, getting to his feet and heading over towards Zayn, steps slow but eyes determined. They'd been dancing around this for ages. An awkward ballroom dance that skirted the edges of a relationship. But with two shy punks who could barely admit feelings to themselves, let alone each other, it was probably expected.

And they were fine taking it day by day. Soft, slow kisses on the tour bus. Falling asleep tangled together on the couch so they didn't get cramped in the bunks. It was good. They knew they liked each other, the other lads knew they liked each other, and so really, there was no point voicing it anyway. But it would still happen, one day. Everyone knew that too.

Taking his hands from his pockets, Zayn met them halfway with Michael's hips as the boy pressed against him, one hand settling on Zayn's shoulder and the other going to the back of his head as he tipped it down, Michael hesitating a moment before they kissed, his eyes flicking up to meet Zayn's burnt caramel ones, warm and doting and they shared the moment together for a few seconds before Michael closed his eyes, closing the last fraction to press their mouths together in a plump, firm press that didn't move for a moment, both of them just basking in the fact that they were kissing, that they could. 

Slowly, Michael kissed him again, lips working gently against Zayn's as they slipped into a rhythm as easy as the flow of water. It was all sweet, unrushed as they moved together, Zayn's arms slowly going right against Michael to hug him close, and Michael eventually rising onto his tip-toes, both arms wrapping around Zayn's neck lightly as they kissed, no real intent behind the occasional light swipe of a tongue against a lower lip before Michael pulled away, stepping back and pushing his bandanna up an inch, tongue running over his lips as though catching each remnant of the older Malik, and Zayn found himself mirroring the action.

They headed for the stairs together, shoulders brushing and little fingers locked, because Michael was too punk rock to hold hands fully and Zayn was too bad boy to show too much feelings in such a private, intimate way. Joking around on stage was great. Helping Harry make Louis jealous by eating candy off his crotch or by grinding against him on stage was all a laugh. But real emotion? Real... _love._ It wasn't hard for him to show. He was just too scared to.

Pushing open his bedroom door, Zayn found everything the way he'd left it bar the suitcase and duffel bag at the foot of the bed on the floor. "You should have seen the boys when Niall came to say goodbye. Threeway kisses are the weirdest thing I've ever seen" Michael voiced, breaking the easy silence around them as they both headed for the bed, Zayn breaking their hold on each other for a moment to cross to the other side of the bed where the remotes where, both of them sliding to sit side by side on the plush covers.

"At least you didn't have to watch Calum and Liam practically have sex against the door of the bus" Zayn responded, scrunching his nose in mild disgust. The fact that all of them had turned out to be one big mess of boy-on-boy action had been amusing to them all, and slowly they'd all found themselves tangled together with secret kisses and accidental walk-in-ons. Now, everyone was partnered and happy. Michael giggled at his expression then promptly dropping it to a throaty chuckle, which made Zayn duck his head with a sly, fond smile. 

Handing the remote over to Michael without hesitation, Zayn leant back against the headboard, letting his head loll against Michael's shoulder while Michael slung his left leg lightly over both of Zayn's, turning the TV over to an old Fast and Furious movie. "Harry and Louis fell asleep in the recording booth together again. They're so cute together" Michael added quietly, looking down to where their hands lay, pressed together but not linked. He let his head rest atop of Zayn's, listening to their breathing over the quiet lull of Vin Diesel working the fuck out of a car on TV.

"They are" Zayn agreed, humming gently. Of every couple between the two bands, it was agreed by everyone that Harry and Louis were the most starstruck lovers. From the first time Louis spotted Harry in the line and they met in the bathrooms, they'd been like soulmates. Always touching, always snuggling. Falling asleep in the cutest positions. Matching tattoos on opposite arms so when they held hands they'd come together. It was what Zayn wanted in life and love but he wasn't bitter. If anything, watching them, watching Luke and Ashton and Niall manage a happy, healthy three-sided relationship and watching shy little Calum slowly coaxed out day by day by Liam, it all gave him hope.

Hope that one day, he'd have the courage to be like that with Michael.

"Are you hungry?" he asked a moment after, tipping his head back a little to catch the light making Michael's pale skin glow, reflecting off his deep eyes and it made him stare, lost and transfixed until Michael's eyes flicked to him, amusement dancing in them and Zayn realized he'd zoned out staring. "I said not quite, but maybe later" Michael repeated, twisting where he sat to boop Zayn's nose gently then kiss where he'd tapped.

Zayn gave a soft growling noise, lips ghosting a smile as he surged forwards, nosing at Michael's cheek and curling up into his side as he slid his fingers down lightly, trailing from his shoulder to the side of Michael's ripped Blink-182 shirt, slipping under with his hand sliding slowly up Michael's side and Michael was staring at him, lips parted and gaze like Zayn was something from a fiction book and Zayn leant forwards, eyes flicking down to Michael's mouth.

And then he curved his fingers and dug them gently into Michael's side with a coy grin and Michael shrieked, instantly contorting like a provoked snake, laughter bubbling out over his tongue as he squirmed alongside Zayn, hands grabbing at his biceps and Zayn relentlessly and mercilessly tickled him until tears glistened in Michael eyes and he was begging for mercy, and then he relented, hands coming up to cup Michael's cheeks as he kissed his forehead gently.

"Aw, Mikey kitten" he cooed, and Michael gave him his best -.- face, which only made him look like a rumpled, angry kitten and Zayn couldn't help snorting gently, reaching up to gently push Michael's bandanna back in place, gaze flicking back down to Michael's eyes. "I really like you" he murmured, and Michael's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "I really like you too" he hummed back, and Zayn buried his face in his shoulder before Michael got a chance to see how much he was smiling.

They stayed like that for a while, cuddled up together and paying no attention to the world outside their little bubble, and after a while Zayn shifted, hand moving down to press their palms together, raising their hands up by their heads before they linked their fingers together, hands holding tight, both of them looking at where they joined and smiling to themselves.

It was all gonna be okay. 


	4. Baby Bring A Lemon And A Bottle Of Gin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin]
> 
> Being 18 is great. You can drink, you can fuck, and even better?  
> You can legally get into places where you can do both.  
> Or the one where Ashton thinks being 18 is great until it meets someone who makes being 18 the best thing on earth.
> 
> {{Prompt: Bella
> 
> 1\. Lashton- Ashton meets Luke at club and things get dirty ;)}}
> 
> (Mature - Smut - AU - Alcohol use - Consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol - Barebacking - Drinking - Lashton - Kissing - Dirty kissing - Filth - Like really - You guys - So much smut in the requests :P - Side Marry Stylifford - Mentioned Calum - He's the boy who works with Luke behind the bar BTW)
> 
> **Title is from Don't by Ed Sheeran

Being 18 is fucking  _great._ You can get smashed, you can drive, and the best thing? You can fuck. But even better? You could do all three at once if you wanted.

Not that Ashton would. He knew the laws and he'd never risk lives like that, but still. You  _could._ And that's fucking  _amazing._ When you're 16 you can't do shit. Okay, maybe you can bend someone over (or get bent over, if that's your thing) but still. You just have to sit and watch while everyone else goes out and gets smashed and all you can do is sit up in your room with a light-up controller, your XBOX and fourteen strangers screaming at you because you have no life and as such are a legend on COD.

But he's eighteen now, and that's all gonna change. It's like being re-born. Fresh-faced and starry eyed and the world is suddenly a whole new place. Full of music with a bass so loud it thrums through your heart and lights that flash over a secret world you were just given the key to. And that's exactly what was gonna happen tonight. Michael had promised to take him to  _Fantasy_ , the biggest and hottest gay club that wasn't a strip club. Although from what Michael had told him they sometimes did have people dancing there on occasions. 

He's already dressed and ready. A fraying Metallica shirt with a huge tear in the side to reveal the pattern of the Nirvana smiley face on the shirt under it, skinny jeans so tight he has a legit fear about his legs falling off due to blood loss, and a pair of Supras that Niall had sent him for Christmas with a note demanding he 'send those god awful slip-ons back to Hell where they belong'. Personally, Ashton was offended because he knew Niall had a friend named Louis who wore slip-ons pretty much all the time.

He'd also been pacing his house for the past half an hour, surrounded by wrapping paper and 'happy birthday' banners and half-eaten cake from the small party earlier. His parents had gone out of town but left their presents so he could still open them and all his friends had come over for a party before the night ahead. All in all it had been great. He'd gotten some new CD's, a ton of clothes, a $40 iTunes card from his Dad, and a ton of stuff from everyone else. (He'd teared up a little when Michael handed him a Limited Edition, rare signed original CD of one of Blink-182's albums. But he'd been too punk rock to cry and Mikey had also threatened him with a knee to the balls if he got too emotional.)

The clock was just about reading half past nine when the doorbell rang, and Ashton forced himself to walk for the door in an orderly fashion, the 18th Birthday Key hanging around his neck. He was a boy, not a dog. He could goddamn walk for the door. And he did, in a human fashion, and when he got to it he didn't hesitate to rip it open, mouth open to pounce on Michael for being late, when he realized that Michael was not alone.

Standing behind him was 6"3' of a walking wet dream sex on legs. "Hey, Birthday Boy" Michael greeted, reaching forwards to grab Ashton by his shirt and drag him out onto the driveway before he leant forwards to shut Ash's door, and holy shit Mr.Wet Dream had fucking  _abs._ "Ash, this is Harry" Michael gestured, and it made Ashton feel ever so slightly guilty that he'd just been gawking at Michael's long-distance British boyfriend. 

"Hiiiii" Harry drawled, raising a hand to waggle his fingers at Ashton, before he stepped forwards, sliding a plastic 'Birthday Princess' tiara into Ashton's hair before he draped a matching pink sash over his shoulder with a cheeky grin and a wink. As Michael sashayed past, he used a fingertip to snap Ashton's mouth shut, and the starry eyed teenager shook his head and snapped to it, catching up with the duo as they began the walk down towards what was now known as the Fantasy Road.

"So. Harry. Haz. Hazza. Nice to finally meet you" Ashton began, and then stamped on Michael's foot when he snorted at him. Michael shushed with a whelp, and Harry grinned at them both and holy fuck he had  _dimples._ Trust Michael to find the hottest boy alive. "It's nice to finally meet you too, Ashton" Harry responded, and Ashton just wanted to wrap himself in Harry's accent and never come out. Conversation flowed from there, and by the time they got to the top of 'Fantasy Road' Ashton was hanging off Harry's back like a koala, the nearly 19 British lad holding him by his thighs  _effortlessly._

Michael didn't seem to mind that Ashton was slobbering over his boyfriend. In fact, he seemed amused by it, and when they got to the brightly lit club (LED lights strewn all over it, glow in the dark paint casting patterns and splatters all over the white brick work) he even held the door open so Ashton wouldn't have to get down. Once into the bright lobby, the thump of the music was already vibrating through Ashton's ribs, and he squirmed so much Harry had to keep adjusting his own weight to keep Ashton's centered. 

Michael handed over their pre-bought passes to the bouncer behind the counter, and he stamped all three of their hands with a white UV logo then taped an entry bracelet around all of their wrists on the same hand. He motioned them on, and the bouncer by the velvet-padded doorway nodded, pushing it open to reveal a brightly lit, dazzling purple hallway. The music was so loud now Ashton couldn't even hear his own breathing, and Michael's lilac hair was like a beacon in the slight darkness. The floor was vibrating under their feet and Ashton could feel it through Harry's concrete muscles.

At the next door, Michael paused, looking back over his shoulder. "I think her highness can walk from here, stud" he grinned, and Harry made a sound so soft Ashton felt it rather than heard it, before Harry was ever so carefully setting him down on the ground. Michael held both his hands out, and Harry and Ashton both took one, Ashton clinging on so tight that Michael turned to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Don't be nervous, Aussie" he grinned, before after a nod from Michael, Harry pushed open the door.

It was as amazing as Ashton had always thought as they stepped in together. Everything was neon and bright and stood out in the darkness. There was a huge stage where three men swinging around fire, their lit batons sailing between them. UV painted bodies writhed and ground and danced everywhere and the music pulsed like a heartbeat around them, some epic techno-ish song with a fucking  _great_ bass. Michael's hair was like a glowing ball of fuzz and the blacklights revealed pre-put-in streaks of white in Harry's hair, along with splatters of baby blue.

Michael dragged them both over to the large table full of pots of paint, where the three of them got stuck in. Michael finger-painted 'Birthday Babe' over Ashton's shirt in hot pink with the promise it'd wash out. He left kiss-prints all over Ashton's cheeks and wrote 'Stud Muffin' on Harry's ass. Harry took in good nature and it return put both of his palms into a pot of lilac paint, smacking Michael and Ashton on the ass to leave a matching print on them. Michael smeared white paint on Harry's lips, green on Ashton's and red on his own before he dragged them both into a three-way kiss, nothing but over-exaggerated sloppy kissing with no tongues or open mouths that smeared the paint all over their lips and most of the area around their mouths, too and left them all laughing.

Harry pulled a seriously grossed out face from the taste, but coated his tongue in blue and licked a stripe up the side of Ashton's jaw with a giggle before Michael dragged them away from the table lest they end up with paint poisoning. As they passed the bar, Ashton caught sight of (well, technically half of) a boy behind the counter, with white and blue pawprints up his arms, a glowing chippendale-style bowtie and blue and white wings painted on his bare back, spanning across his shoulders and the backs of his arms. That was all he caught before Michael was dragging him onto the dance floor, and the bar boy was promptly forgotten. 

Someone handed them all a shot as they danced, many people already shouting out congratulations and birthday wishes as the three of them formed their own little bubble, dancing messily and giddily around each other as the congratulatory shots kept up coming, all mixed with tonic water so they glowed as bright as the lights around them. Dazzled, Ashton turned away as Michael and Harry began to grind against each other filthily, like there was no barrier of clothes, and found himself pressed between two girls who shouted "Happy Birthday!" over the noise of the club and then began to dance with him, spinning him around and shaking out their hair and generally not caring about how they looked or how many silly moves they pulled. 

After a while, Ashton found himself breathless, and he managed to worm his way out of the dance floor, staggering over to the bar where he fell into a seat, looking all around himself with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks. It was like being drugged. Everything felt un-real and like time had either slowed or sped up. He felt his breath rather than heard it, tasted the bursts of bitter-sweet tang on his tongue from the drinks and everything was so bright, but so dark in places it was like stepping into a video game or fantasy film.

Bright light caught his eyes and he turned his head, catching sight of the boy he barely remembered from earlier. Hot pink was smeared across his lower lip like he'd wiped it there and there was a thin line of red at the left corner, the tips of his hair was dusted with a frosting of bright blue, and the detail from last time he'd seen him was still there. Around his left eye was a rainbow explosion of all the UV colours from the table, neatly painted on like it was millions of little flecks. The wings were even better up close, so detailed Ashton could almost imagine running his fingers through the tiny little feathers and then the boy half-turned into one of the lights above him and Ashton nearly had a heart attack.

The little red sliver turned out to be a lip ring and the boy turned out to be another addition to Ashton's list of heart-stoppingly beautiful men. He was just... _beautiful_ and then he looked up and Ashton nearly fell off his chair because it looked like someone had taken the moon, turned it baby blue and cloned it and given it to the boy for irises and if they were contacts Ashton was going to cry. 

It was then Ashton realized he'd been caught staring and was now still staring, only now the boy was looking back at him and he really did fall off his chair when a hand suddenly smacked down on his shoulder. By the time a very apologetic, kicked-puppy looking Harry had actually effortlessly lifted him back into his seat, Angel Boy was back over the other end of the bar, mixing drinks like he was dancing, pulling all sorts of fancy moves before sliding the glass across the counter without spilling a single drop.

"Hiiiiiiyya. Just wanted to check you were okay" Harry beamed, planting a sloppy kiss to Ashton's cheek before he looked up and whistled over the music. "Luke! Dirty sex for the birthday boy here!" he called, beaming and Ashton had to cling onto Harry even harder so he didn't fall off his chair again because  _what?!_

An- _Luke's_ eyes flicked up from under his smattering of blue-frosted hair that hung in his eyes, his expression soft but at the same time coy as he gave Harry a single nod and reached under the counter and Ashton was so busy gawking at Harry that he didn't see anything else until a creamy looking white drink with a pink layer on the bottom was slid against his arm by a hand with detailed, twisting flowery vines coiling around and through the fingers.

He looked up just in time to catch Luke turning away again, and Harry gave him a one armed hug. "Are you coming back up to dance?" he asked, his mouth light against Ashton's ear so he could be heard, and Ashton managed to stutter out he'd be there in a moment. Harry gave a nod, kissed his cheek again and then practically flung himself on top of Michael, who'd apparently been making his way over. The two vanished into a nearby booth and Ashton looked back down at his drink.

 _A Dirty Sex._ He'd almost died again for a  _drink._

Huffing, he reached out and took it, watching the thick, (dare he say it, jizz-like) liquid move slightly in the glass before he hummed. Sniffing it, he recoiled in mild horror. It smelt like _diesel_. He sucked in a deep breath. Quietly, he began to sing.

"We like to drink with Ashton, 'cuz Ashton is our mate. We like to drink with Ashton 'cuz he gets it down in eight-"

Tossing his head back, he emptied the shot into his mouth, the thick liquid oozing out onto his tongue like someone really was blowing their load on him, and he hummed 'seven, six, five' as he forced himself to swallow. It was surprisingly sweet with just a slight bitter after-taste, and when Ashton leveled his head again to put the glass down he found Angel Luke leaning on the counter, amusement across his pretty face, head tipped slightly.

Thankfully, Ashton's heart seemed to have given up at this point so he only jumped slightly. Luke was even more breathtaking up close, and Ashton found himself frozen, glass two inches from the table, eyes wide. After a moment Luke's amused small smile turned into an amused smirk, and he reached out, placing the fingertip of his index finger on the rim of Ashton's shot and lowering it to the table. "Amazingly realistic, isn't it?" Luke purred, and Ashton had never thought much of the Aussie accent, but hearing it from Luke's mouth was like an orgasm via sound.

Instead of being normal and joking or laughing or agreeing, Ashton instead chose to blurt out "How'd you know?" and then dropped his gaze, gawking at the table when he heard melodic laughter over the pounding music. "I guess I spent a lot of time on my knees" Luke responded, and before Ashton could answer, he was gone again, meeting up with another boy in nothing but jeans and a chippendale-bowtie at the other end of the counter. The new boy was painted with smears all around the left side of his face and a green handprint on the right, with fire patterns all over his torso and 'Kiss me I'm legal' scrawled across his back messily.

The two met and the top and just seemed to flow into each other, instantly starting to move gracefully around and with each other, mixing drinks and tossing items between them. At one point, the new boy even turned to Luke with a lime in his mouth and Luke took it with his teeth, biting down to squeeze the juice into the boy's glass before it was handed to a delighted looking girl.

That was all Ashton had time to see, because Michael was suddenly dragging him away, starry-eyed and covered in fresh hickeys and demanding that Ashton stopped moping and started  _dancing._

**Around two hours later.**

Slightly sweaty, more than a little tipsy and now quite lusty, Ashton sank back into a seat at the bar, as delighted as he was exhausted. He'd danced and drunk his way through the night while all the while keeping an eye on the elegant, effortless duo behind the bar. Mainly Luke, watching him move fluidly and mix drinks in ways Ashton found both incredible and sexy. Now, Ashton just wanted sex and sleep and he didn't even know what order he wanted it in.

He didn't get time to decide, though, because there was suddenly a third boy behind the counter and Luke was waving, mixing four final bright glowing rainbow coloured drinks (Two of which Ashton recognized as a Dirty Sex) and then exiting from behind the bar. A little down-hearted at the fact that the pretty boys shift was over and he couldn't watch him anymore, Ashton patted around for his phone only to see four drinks being pushed onto the counter in front of him, a warm, solid body pressed against his back.

"Happy Birthday, Birthday Babe" Luke purred in his ear, and Ashton couldn't help leaning back against his chest, letting his head rest on Luke's shoulder. One of Luke's hands was splayed across his stomach and the other reached out, picking up one of the Dirty Sex's and bringing it to Ashton's mouth, Luke's breath hot on his cheek as the younger boy tipped his head back, opening his mouth and letting the thick liquid ooze out onto his tongue, followed by the water-dense pink liquid that gave the bitter after-taste. Ash was well aware of Luke watching him, eyes bright and lust-clouded as Luke sat the empty glass down, watching Ashton swallow.

Coyly, Ashton opened his mouth, showing Luke the little pool of the thick white part of the drink and Luke pressed against him even more, like he was going to rock Ashton's world there and then. But instead he kissed Ashton's jawline and shut his mouth, and reached for the other Dirty Sex, picking it up and downing it. Ashton's phone vibrated against his thigh and he fumbled for it, pulling it out. It was a text from Harry that had been pre-scheduled. Ashton knew this not only from the fact that it said so on the top, but the fact that it was perfectly spelt and written.

**From: Unknown Number**

**Hiiii! Harry here :***

**Luke Hemmings, 20, really nice guy. He's a friend of mine. Happy Birthday! Enjooyyyy xxx**

Ashton blinked, then it dawned on him.

_Luke was a stripper._

He must have either said it aloud or his face said it for him, because Luke laughed softly. "Text from Harry?" he purred, running his hand up and down Ashton's stomach. "Don't worry, Birthday Boy. I'm not a hooker or anything. Harry's a good friend of mine and all he asked was that I make the night special for you. Treat you to a few things like drinks here and there. You sounded so nice I couldn't refuse, and well. You're so hot I can't  _resist_ adding on some of my own personal touches" Luke murmured, and a shiver ran down Ashton's spine.

"Luke" even to his own ears, Ashton sounded drugged and adoring, breathless and needy and shy all in one word and Luke smiled against his cheek, reaching with his free hand again to pick up the next shot, a strange mix of colours with a little ball of sugar floating around in it. "It's called a Birthday Blowjob" Luke grinned, winking at Ashton and even in his dazed state Ashton had to snicker at that. The hand on his stomach pressed him backwards a little, and then Luke's right leg was swinging elegantly over his lap and Luke settled down high on his thighs.

There was so much to focus on in those next few seconds that Ashton almost missed the most important bit. Right in the center of the curve of Luke's ass, the delicious weight on his thighs, was something hard and circular and Ashton nearly suffered his fifth heart-attack of the night. Because Luke was wearing a  _butt plug._

Almost like he knew Ashton knew, Luke rolled his hips slowly, lashes fluttering slightly as the plug pressed down against Ashton's closed thighs, a half-smirk on his face as he raised the shot glass in his hand, pressing it to Ashton's mouth again and making him tip his head back, the sweet, tangy liquid flooding over his tongue as Luke watched, his own tongue running over his lower lip, lips themselves slightly parted.

Ashton swallowed readily, rolling the sugar ball over his tongue hazily before crunching on it, swallowing the scatter of sugar that resulted slowly, letting the sweetness coat his mouth. Luke purred, set the glass down then picked up the other one, downing the shot in one but expertly catching the sugar ball between his teeth. Once he'd swallowed, Luke set the glass down then leant forwards, and Ashton was practically panting with anticipation. 

Letting their lower lips rest together, Luke used his tongue to push the sugar ball into Ashton's mouth, giving him a moment to crunch down on it before he surged forwards, pressing their mouths together in a bitter-sweet, wet,  _filthy_ slide, wasting no time in shoving his tongue down Ashton's throat and Ashton wanted to choke on it, wanted to die this happy or stay this way forever as he instantly kissed back, tongue curling wetly around Luke's in a smooth slide so he could suck on it softly, drawing a groan from the older boy above him. 

"Up, up" Luke's voice is urgent, even if he does grind down against Ashton a final time before standing up, practically ripping the lithe boy up out of his seat and dragging him along. Ashton's more than willing, noticing Michael and Harry stumbling lip-locked into the bathrooms, hands already down each others pants as Luke drags him towards a dimly lit room with a glowing 'staff only' sign on it. When Luke pushes the door open it's like stepping into a living room out of those Perfect Home books. It's all plush velvet couches and drinks stands and mini-coolers and a bathroom and stairs leading up and it's empty save for them. 

Luke dragged him into the center of the living room, where a lone glass bar counter stood, clear of everything. Spinning around again, Luke pressed himself back against it, dragging Ashton with him and latching onto his mouth again, filthily tongue-fucking him, sloppy and wet and scorching hot as he slid his hands down the firm expanse of Ashton's back, nails scraping lightly over his shirts before his hands cupped Ashton's ass, slowly guiding Ashton into grinding against him, the firm rises of their crotches rubbing and pressing together in a friction that was so so good, but still not quite enough. 

Ashton groaned, head dropping to Luke's shoulder as he did as voicelessly told and let himself rut freely against Luke, his tiara steadily slipping until it fell to Luke's shoulder then the floor, his hands coming up to dig into the older boys shoulders with a soft whine, Luke answering with a pitched keen that had another shiver run down Ashton's spine, making him surge against Luke and pin him against the counter even more for a moment, so tight the pressure nearly made him dizzy and thank god the UV paint was smear-proof when it was dry. 

Luke still had his hands on Ashton's ass, the boys bent arms pinned between their chests as with another moan, Ashton raised his head to mouth at Luke's neck, catching the skin lightly with his teeth and sucking slowly, drawing the blood to the surface in a dark circle with teeth welts to border it. Luke let out a breathless gasp, hands shoving Ashton's hips forwards by his ass so they ground together again, his head falling back and then he was determined. 

He practically ripped Ashton's shirt off, watching the sash flutter down, ducking down to close his mouth over one of Ashton's nipples, sucking like his life depended on it with his tongue now and then pressing against the hard, sensitive bud. After a moment he trailed his mouth and tongue down, starting a path of a wet trail then a large hickey, and making his way down and down towards Ashton's belt, the younger lads hands going to his hair, tugging the semi-stiff yet still uber soft blonde locks lightly, his head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as he inhaled sharply.

When he reached Ashton's belt line, Luke waited no time, yanking it open so intently it brought Ashton's hips forwards with it, making Luke kiss the visible bulge in Ash's jeans before he yanked down Ashton's trousers, boxers and all down. He took a moment to revel in how pretty Ashton's dick was, thick and decent sized, cut, hairless at the base and he practically purred as he stood. He stripped his own shirt off, Ashton eagerly latching onto his neck again and Luke took a moment to shove his own pants and boxers down, stepping out of them before while Ashton was distracted, he leant a little to the left, reaching behind himself and slowly working the plug free.

Ashton jolted when there was a soft thunk, and slowly he stood on his tip-toes, looking over Luke's shoulder to see the glittery, baby blue plug just about stop rolling on the floor and it made his skin run boiling hot, a jolt of unexpected pleasure shooting down his spine and he found himself looking up at Luke, almost like a dog asking for permission. 

"I want you to fuck me" Luke purred, leaning down to whisper in Ashton's ear and it suddenly made him bold, hands going to Luke's hips and spinning him around, bending him easily over the counter. With one hand gentle on the small of Luke's back, his gaze wandering over the bright blue wings and thinking that Luke's skin was as soft as he'd imagined the feathers would be, Ashton reached down with his other hand, drawing two fingertips slowly up the pretty curve of Luke's ass before slowly, he pressed his fingers down, unable to bite back a filthy moan that rose in unison with Luke's when his fingers just slipped straight into Luke's ass, knuckle deep in a vice-like heat that was sloppy with lube, tight but easily opening around his touch. 

Drawing his own fingers up his shaft, using the slickness coated on them from touching Luke, Ashton then shifted forwards, one hand going to Luke's hair and the other keeping him pressed over the table as he lined himself up with a tilt of his hips, bending over slightly too. Leaning his weight forwards, he slowly pressed against Luke's ass, both of them making a low groaning noise when Ashton pushed in slowly, Luke's body opening up for him with minimal resistance, a vice-like tight grip eased by a wet, hot slide. 

Luke gasped as Ashton kept easing in, the younger lad moving his hand down to Luke's hip, physically pulling him back onto his dick. It make Luke feel like he was being stuffed full right to his throat, thick and heavy and hot and he  _loved_ it. When Ashton bottomed out, he felt like he was choking, impaled to the point of no return and it made him bring his hands back, flat on Ashton's ass again and eagerly pushing him forwards, driving him even closer and a fraction of an inch deeper. 

"Go" Luke urged, his voice thick. The burn was there, but it was good. Like cream on a cake. Ashton hesitated a moment, already feeling worried about going in pretty much dry, but he managed a soft sound in response and pulled back, easing his hips forwards again while also using the hand on Luke's hip to pull the older lad back, the feeling of smooth, hot muscle sliding against him making him shiver. "Faster, Just-Fuck me raw" Luke panted, and it made Ashton's hips jerk, hitching Luke an inch up the table, his breath fogging the glass.

Obeying, Ashton leant forwards, draping himself over Luke's back with one hand on the table and one hand still on Luke's hip. Burying his nose behind Luke's ear, he mouthed at the soft skin there as he set up a rhythm, Leaning his weight through his arm on the table and arching his spin, tipping his hips to fuck up into Luke like a dog, hard and fast with his hips bumping the soft skin of Luke's ass with each thrust, gently bouncing Luke slightly against the table. 

Ashton shut his eyes tight, drawing in air through his teeth and he dropped his forehead to Luke's shoulder, feeling Luke using his hands to push him in deep with every thrust, twisting slightly above the older boy. It was like being high and spiralling out of control down some sort of pleasure trip, and they were already glossy with sweat, Luke pushing back against each thrust, Ashton fucking up into him, hitting that little sweet spot relentlessly so fireworks exploded behind Luke's eyes with each loud moan.

It wasn't long before Ashton was choking out a warning, barely heard over Luke's soft, breathless moans and then Ashton was biting down on Luke's shoulder, thrusts turning to tiny little grinds as he rode out his high, Luke convulsing beneath him, painting his own chest with his cum. The two of them slumped there, panting together on the steamed up glass, slick with sweat and Ashton couldn't help but smile.

**A few weeks later.**

"Hey Luke. Ready to go?" Harry asked, hand in hand with Michael as he halted in front of his friend. They were due to go see a movie, the four of them, and Harry paused a moment, before grinning. "Hiiiii Ashy" he drawled out, and from behind Luke, perfectly hidden, Ashton's head popped up onto Luke's shoulder, the youngest lad grinning shyly out at all his friends as he leant against his boyfriends back. Everything was great, now. Ashton was eighteen, he had a great boyfriend, great sex (Luke was as much a powertop as he was a powerbottom) and both his musical talent and his grades were great.

Being eighteen  _rocked._


	5. 99 Problems And You're Every One (But One Of Them Is I Love You Too Much) **RAPE TRIGGER WARNING**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Luke Hemmings/Louis Tomlinson]
> 
> Having a jealous boyfriend is great. Luke isn't the jealous type were he bans Louis from going out or demands to know where he is 24/7. He's the jealous type that'll see someone flirting with Louis and subtly give them a reason to stop, or he'll get a little needy for attention (in a cute way) if Louis spends ages talking to someone else.  
> Besides. Luke's too much of a doting sweetheart to do anything bad.  
> ....  
> Right?
> 
> {{Prompt: Bella  
> 2\. Louis and Luke (i kind of read this as a fanfic but it was never finished) Louis and Luke go to the store and someone flirts with Louis but he doesn't notice but Luke does and gets jealous and rapes Louis
> 
> Omg sorry for the second one /.\ i just would like to see an ending to that}}
> 
> (Non consensual sex - Mildly forced sex - Rape - Rough sex - Public sex - Slight Anger - Wall sex - Partially dry sex - Pain - Mild pain kink - Controlling - Top!Luke - Bottom!Louis - Voice blocking - Big Brother-ish Louis - Slightly possessive Luke - Non famous AU - Mentioned rich!Harry - Mentioned Zarry - Established relationship)

You always hear horror stories about jealous boyfriends and the terrible, horrible things they do.

But Luke isn't anything like that. He's sweet and loving and not really jealous per se. Just needy of Louis' attention. It's not a clingy need or a 24/7 annoying must have must get need. It's more like Luke just really likes spending time with him, that's all. Louis loves it. Loves how even though he's older, it means shit. Luke's always like the saucy older boyfriend, taking care of his precious little twink and it always makes a shiver run down Louis' spine. Sure, their relationship did get kick-started because they hooked up in Louis' car, but really, their relationship is sweet.

Luke's always up before him so he can wake Louis up with a cup of Earl Grey, Louis always styles Luke's hair in the morning because Luke loves it when he does it, they have fluffy date nights with no sex, just a little kissing here and there and they're even more sickly-sweet than any of their friends. Sure, their sex is fucking  _awesome_ if you'll excuse the slight pun. They've done everything from double penetration to seeing how many times they can cum in one night before they literally can't anymore. But it's always sweet, even the rough sex. Luke always makes sure at random points to add in a sly, gentle touch or word.

Another thing Louis loves about Luke is that he puts up with the slight insomnia Louis developed from when he lived with his full insomniac best friend Harry. (Louis always used to try and stay up with him so he didn't feel lonely, and always woke up tucked back in bed with a 'sleep well' post-it note stuck to his forehead.) Of course, that means Louis likes to do random shopping trips late at night. Luke never minds. He always tells Louis it just means he can see Louis all sleepy and slow and cute.

**~**

"Luke?" Louis asked, rolling over slightly from where he had his head in Luke's lap, the TV casting the only other light and sound in the dark room. "Yeah?" Luke responded, looking down at Louis and smiling slowly, moving his hand from where it had lain on Louis' hip to his hair, running his slender fingers through the bark coloured locks, ruffling the half-flattened quiff. Louis let his eyes close for a moment, basking under the warm gaze of his boyfriend before he willed himself to actually say what he was going to say, not just lay here drooling.

"Can we go to the store? There's some stuff I just remembered we're running out of" Louis hummed, and Luke gave a smile and nodded, not even phased by the fact that it was nearly ten in the night. "Sure thing, baby boy" Luke purred back, moving to wrap his arms around Louis and hoist him up a little, ducking his head to kiss Louis slowly, his lip ring metallic on Louis tongue when the older boy licked at it, before seeking out Luke's tongue and sucking on that instead, drawing a deep groan from the younger boy above him before Louis pulled away, knowing Luke wouldn't.

"C'mon. Up and at 'em, Stud" Louis grinned, slipping off Luke's lap and heading for the front door to find out what pair of shoes he'd left there this time. It turned out to be a plain black pair of converse and Louis hummed. They went with his outfit, so he wouldn't have to go upstairs. Besides his shoes, was a slightly larger pair of VANS, and as Louis watched two socked feet slid easily into them, and then Luke was bending down, mouthing at Louis' neck as Louis tied up his right shoe and Luke tied up his left.

They stood together and Luke took Louis' hand, taking his keys from his pocket to lock the door behind him as they stepped outside and to Louis' black 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air, a birthday present from Harry that Luke had both been pleased by, and rather un-pleased by. Un-pleased in the fact that he made Louis cum four times that night, including once in/on the car. And he'd given Louis a hickey the size of England that had lasted  _weeks._

Louis slipped behind the wheel and started the engine, pulling out carefully so there was a complete 0% chance of him even going within an inch of Luke's Honda parked in front of him, and they drove the four blocks to the store in a peaceful, content silence, Louis loving how the car felt to drive, Luke watching the world pass by with a dreamy expression that only broke when they pulled up in the car park, empty bar one other Toyota. Pulling up in a space near the other side of the street, Louis shut off the engine and as usual, Luke was already out and heading over for his door.

Going on his tip-toes to kiss Luke as he got out, Louis locked the car once Luke had pushed the door shut and they walked to the store with Luke's arm around Louis' waist, fingers spanned half over his hips and half over his stomach, always there and holding. Luke was warm against the slight July chill as they made their way through the door. The store was completely empty bar a bored looking girl behind the counter, who was flicking through a magazine. She perked up incredibly however, when L2 walked through the door.

Luke payed her no heed, but Louis gave her a greeting nod and smile before the duo walked off, Luke reluctantly letting go of Louis to let Louis wander where he wanted, since after all, it was Louis who knew what he wanted. "Luke, could you grab milk, carrots, pasta and bacon please, baby?" Louis asked quietly as they separated, Louis heading for the carbs isle while Luke obediently turned in the opposite direction to grab the milk.

Just as Luke was picking up the pasta, his phone chimed and he pulled it out. Finding it was a text from Calum, one of Luke's friends who'd gone to Britain on an exchange programme, Luke temporarily abandoned joining up with Louis to find out how his close friend was doing.

Louis, meanwhile, had gotten all he knew they needed and was already heading for the check-out where the girl was watching him, her magazine forgotten and her cleavage hanging over the  counter, her smile newly glossy as Louis carefully set out his purchases on the till and she slowly picked up the duct-tape, raising a coy eyebrow but scanning it anyway. "Don't think I've ever seen you two cuties around here before" she informed, and Louis, who was now busy tapping around on his phone while also digging out a $20 bill, smiled at his screen.

"Usually we come around nine-ish" he hummed, not at all invested in the conversation, nor paying any heed to her obvious flirting attempts. "Aw. My shift doesn't start until half nine" the cashier pouted, putting on her best sad face and Louis gave a non-committal hum in response, now more invested in his phone than in her voice. Seeing that her blatant tactics weren't working, the girl switched them, nodding aside as she carried on scanning his items as slowly as possible.

Luke was still standing by the pasta, but now Calum was long forgotten, his screen timed-out as he stood listening to the conversation. God, it was fucking  _obvious_ the girl was flirting and what was his boy doing?

_Responding._

"Who's your friend?" the cashier asked, tipping her head and Louis looked over his shoulder at Luke, who appeared to be texting too, items still in his arms. "That's Lucas. Flaming homosexual, that one" Louis grinned teasingly, unable to resist the wind-up as he looked back to the cashier. She gave a slightly disinterested smile, then leant forwards, her hand on Louis' stomach for a bare second. "I love your shirt" she drawled and barely even two seconds later Luke was suddenly behind him, a hand on his ass hidden from the girl's view as Luke set down the other groceries with a little more force than necessary.

"Alright?" he asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly with a tight smile, free hand tucked in his back pocket as he ducked his head, giving Louis a deep kiss that while barely three seconds long, left Louis breathless and their mouths connected by a thin string of saliva that Luke slowly swiped away with his tongue. When he looked back up the girl was looking down, and scanning the last view items noticeably faster now, her cheeks tinted pink and her chest lowered slightly. 

Luke couldn't help the sly smirk that graced his mouth and a quick side-eye at Louis showed the boy was looking dazed, thumb rubbing across his lower lip, his head ducked with a shy smile on his mouth. Their items bagged, Luke picked up the plastic bag while Louis handed over the $20 and the older lad barely had time to take his change before Luke was guiding him to the door with a hand tucked in one of his back pockets, hand firm.

They remained silent on the way to the car, Luke's hold on Louis tightening when he attempted to go to the drivers door, his boyfriend looking up at him in confusion when Luke threw the shopping onto the backseats and flipped the door shut, spinning Louis gently to pin him up against the car, one hand holding his, the other spanned across his ass. Ducking his head, Luke wasted no time in pressing their mouths together, his lip ring icy cold against Louis' lower lip.

Using his teeth, Luke nipped at Louis' mouth, working him open slowly before he shoved his tongue in his mouth, sloppy and merciless as he tongue-fucked his boyfriend, Louis giving a helpless little moan under him and then Luke was pulling back, guiding a confused, dazed Louis with him as he walked backwards into the alley alongside where they'd parked. "Luuuuke, what're you-" Louis whined, not even finishing his sentence as he was dragged further into the darkness, his heart racing both out of lust and fear. 

"Shh" Luke purred, and then there was a cold breeze as Louis was flipped, pinning against the wall with Luke's legs bracketing his own, his wrists held against the wall and Louis gave a quiet whelp. Luke's breath was hot on his cheek, his lips smooth bar the hard press of his ring. "Don't think I didn't notice" Luke added, his voice slightly harder, huskier. Louis could almost imagine the anger casting ice fire in his eyes. 

"That slut was all over you. Touching what was mine" he practically barked, shoving right up against Louis so the boy barely even had room to breathe, Luke matching him curve for curve. "Practically fucking touching your dick and  _you let her_ " he snarled and Louis shivered, opened his mouth to protest but Luke backed up a little, slapped his ass so hard it sent his hips crushing against the wall with enough force to bruise. "Uh uh uh" Luke tutted softly.

Keeping his crotch pressed firmly against Louis' ass, Luke leant his upper body back a little, dragging Louis' arms behind his back before he held them easily with one arm, keeping them there. Louis was nearly panting now, his head turned to the side, mouth open but voice frozen in fear, his eyes wide. Luke reached for his own belt, ripping it out and taking the chance to grind against Louis in the process, eyes rolling slightly at the firm feeling of Louis' fucking  _great_ arse.

Using a neat 8-figure tie Luke used his belt to tie Louis' wrists together, jamming the buckle tight against his skin so it pinched slightly. He wanted Louis to remember this, and fucking remember it good. "This'll be the last fucking time any slut gets their hands on you, you fucking hear?" Luke hissed into Louis' ear, sneering slightly as he pinned the boy against the wall again with his hips and one hand. Louis gave a whimper, nodding. "Luke-".

Louis didn't get to finish, another whip-cracking slap landing right where his ass curved down to his thighs and tears burnt on his lashes. "Ass out" Luke growled, and Louis hesitated but obeyed, spreading his legs slightly wider and curving his spine, ass grinding against Luke's dick as Louis pushed back and it made the younger lad moan, before he reached around with his free hand, ripping out Louis' belt and palming him through his jeans surprisingly gently, drawing a weak little sound from Louis before he slammed the boy against the wall with his body again.

Reaching up, Luke put the thick leather over Louis' mouth, muffling the older boys protests as he yanked it tight to stop him talking, a lone tear slipping from Louis' eyes as the buckle dug into his cheek and stayed there, Luke giving an approving nod. "There. You won't tell a slut to lay off what doesn't belong to them, you won't fucking talk now, either" he bit, and Louis gave a muffled whimper as Luke's hands slid down his sides again, the older lad squeezing his eyes shut.

Luke wasted no time, teeth clamping down on Louis' neck before he sucked a mark on it like he was physically trying to bite a piece of Louis' neck off, grinding roughly against his boy while he used his hands to push down Louis' jeans slowly, getting them just above his knees before he let off the pressure with his body a little to place his left hand on Louis' left him then reach his right around, sliding it under to wrap his hand around Louis' starting-to-stiffen cock, feeling the thick weight of it in his hand, knowing the smooth skin with the slight vein on the underside was fucking  _his._ Not some grocery store bitch's.

Beneath him Louis whimpered, his cheek red from the rough brick, his eyes squeezed shut but brimming with tears still as Luke slowly dragged his hand up and down, grinding against his ass in tune to himself as he slowly pumped Louis into hardness, Louis trembling under the touches, Luke's hand on his hip tight enough to leave marks that would last for weeks, Luke's mouth still working at the skin of his neck as he rubbed his thumb just under the head of Louis' dick then swiped it over the tip, using the little bead of pre-cum to slick his way.

"Gonna fucking show you what  _I own._ You hear? This?" Luke asked, squeezing Louis' dick as he gave it a slow, hard tug upwards. "This is  _mine._ Nobody else is allowed to touch you, you hear? Friends are fine as long as they stay that way. Cupcake princess Harry? That bastard kittens too dreamy over Zayn impaling him on his dick he wouldn't dream of touching his best friend. I don't mind him. I don't mind your friends. What I do fucking mind? You letting sluts try to take what  _I fucking own"_ Luke snarled.

Louis could only make a muffled sound in response which ended sort of like a cry, another tear dribbling down his flushed cheeks as Luke used his free hand on his hip to yank Louis' boxers down and the older boy flinched at the sudden exposure, trying to cuddle up against the wall but the brick was rough on what Luke's hand didn't cover and instead he tried to push back, ending up letting Luke ride the crease of his bare ass, which made the younger boy moan breathlessly, teeth nipping his collar bone for a moment.

Coating his thumb and index finger in pre-cum from Louis, Luke rubbed them gently against Louis' hole, the older boy jerking at the sudden touch, tense all over and Luke shushed him gently, other hand going under Louis' shirt to rub his stomach gently. He didn't say anything, however, just lifted his hand from Louis ass and sucked on two of his own fingers, getting them sopping wet before he reached back down again, sliding his index finger into Louis' as straight up to the knuckle. Louis gave a high-pitched whine, legs shaking and Luke didn't know or care if it was from pleasure or pain.

Luke finger-fucked Louis quickly, working him open as thoroughly as he could through his anger, Louis so tense that his smooth, hot walls was like a vice around Luke's three fingers, the younger boy still finding against Louis lightly now and then, just as often reaching around to give Louis' still hard dick a few strokes. Louis had quietened somewhat now, save for muffled noises and the occasional weak moan.

"You know what you are?" Luke asked, pulling away from Louis' now mostly black neck to talk in his ear, voice low and dangerous. "You're a bitch.  _My_ bitch. And what happens to bitches? They get  _fucked._ The fucking choke on their boys dick from the inside out. I'm gonna fucking show you how I own you, you got it baby boy? You're mine, you little twink bitch" he snarled.

Louis could only whimper in response as Luke used one hand to tug down his own jeans and boxers, leaving them above the knee before he used his hands to shove Louis' legs further apart, Louis shaking his and fixing Luke with a pleading look, fresh tears in his eyes as Luke put his hands on his hips, dragging his ass out and then Luke took hold of the belt around his mouth with one hand and the belt around his wrists with the other.

Looking down, Luke lined himself up before he looked up again, sinking his teeth into Louis' neck just as he pushed in, his groan as Louis' tight, smooth, hot walls practically sucked him in drowning out Louis slightly pained whimper. Luke bottomed out, his hips flush against Louis' ass and Louis was shaking all over now, his hands squeezed into fists. Luke gave Louis a minute to adjust, making soft little noises as he held Louis tight, thumbs stroking up and down gently, lightly sucking little hickeys over Louis' jawline. 

Feeling he could go on without hurting Louis too much, Luke pulled back slowly and Louis tensed all over again, tucking his head down as Luke slammed back in so hard it shoved Louis up onto his toes. Luke gave a breathless gasp, grinding his hips upwards slightly for a moment, getting as deep as he could before he pulled back out again, setting a relentless pace, his mouth falling open and his head dropping to Louis' shoulder.

He fucked up into Louis so brutally the older boy had no choice but to stay on his toes, his ass pushed back like a bitch begging for it as tears streamed down his cheeks. A lull of breathless "Uh's" was falling from Luke's mouth and he folded over Louis so they were fucking like dogs, Luke using one hand to tug on Louis cock as he fucked up into him, Louis' heat tight and sloppy with pre-cum now. " _My_ boy" Luke groaned, giving an all body shudder, his arms going vice-tight around Louis' slip hips as he fucked up him him deep, one last thrust before Louis was crying, muffled through the belt as while Luke flooded him with a pool of white-hot slick, Louis practically collapsed under him, his own released dripping down the wall.

Luke dragged his head up, using the hand on the belt over Louis' mouth to tug the older boy to face him, Louis blinking up at him weakly, his face wet with tears and Luke leant forwards, kissing just under Louis' left eye gently. "I fucking love you, okay? You mean the world to me. And you belong to me."

(Two years later and Luke's saying the same thing as he fucks Louis up against a glass wall in their Florida hotel, over-looking the bright city with matching rings on their fingers and Luke's last name as Tomlinson, their marriage happy.)

 


	6. Two's Good But Four's A Fuckfest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Luke Hemmings/Niall Horan/Ashton Irwin/Zayn Malik]
> 
> Zayn and Ashton have been rather mistreating of Luke and Niall lately. Mistreating as in for a whole week they seem to have completely forgotten about sex, and it's made their boys /furious/. So naturally, it's time for Liall to take matters into their own hands.
> 
> {{Prompt: darkshadow8  
> I would really appreciate a foursome relationship between Luke, Ashton, Niall, and Zayn smut if you wouldn't mind.Having Niall and Luke as bottoms but Zayn and Ashton just watch for a little bit. Please and thank you loved all of them so far.}}
> 
> (Fourway - Foursome - Top!Zayn - Top! Ashton - Bottom!Luke - Bottom!Niall - Handjobs - Blowjobs - Hair pulling kink - Biting kink - Cumplay - Cumslut!Niall - Cum feeding - Slow sex - Sliiiiightly rough sex - If you squint - Healthy fourway relationship - Established relationship - Fingering - Canon Famous - Mentioned 1D boys - Implied Larry - Teasing - Voyeurism - Masturbation)

 

It's gone into a kind of war situation now, and the boys are getting dire. Zayn and Ashton are sitting on one sofa, attention solely on the TV, legs tangled together, hands lazily linked and Niall and Luke are on the other sofa, sitting cross-legged, cross armed, glowering through narrowed eyes at their boyfriends. Zashton are happily oblivious however, as they've been for a whole week now.

A whole  _week._

Luke's already made his lip bleed from messing with his lip ring so much, and Niall's already so full of sexual tension that he got a boner on stage when Liam tackled him to the floor. Harry, bless the kitten, had seen and spent the rest of the night cuddled up to Louis. It was getting to the point where Niall had already cracked and woke Luke up at three in the morning to suggest putting viagra in the boys' drinks. Luke, sane, had let Niall down gently saying technically it would be a form of rape. (Maybe.)

Still. The situation was as such: Zayn and Ashton seemed to have completely forgotten about sex, and hadn't bent the boys over in a week. As a result, the two resident bottoms were gagging for it and despite all their subtle attempts, still hadn't got it.

So they had a new plan. One that would be 100% consensual, and 100% pure genius. (Obviously. They thought of it.)

Waiting (non) patiently until the adverts stopped and the film came back on, Luke and Niall gave it a minute, before Luke turned, moving slowly so it wouldn't be too obvious to the other lads. He needn't have bothered, he realized a moment later. Neither Zayn nor Ashton even flicked an eye in their direction. Pushing Niall down onto his back against the arm of the sofa. It's all done silently and as slowly as they can force themselves to do it. Burying a hand in Niall's hair, Luke straddles him, reaching down to palm at him gently as they kiss.

It's slow, but sloppy and deep, Luke's tongue stroking over Niall's while the blond(er) boy nips at his lip ring each time Luke gives him a second to breathe. The soft, slick sounds of their kissing is barely audible over the sound of chattering on TV, but the soft whine Niall gives when Luke squeezes him through his jeans is a little louder, and like puppies in a Youtube video Zayn and Ashton's head tilt to the left towards the boys in unison, but they still don't look. 

It almost makes Luke want to growl in frustration but Niall's hands going to his ass and grinding their crotches together distracts him more than a little, rolling with it each time Niall pushes down on his ass like he does when he gets fucked doggy style. They grind together lazily, each push hard and slow and deliciously fricticious. They're both making soft little noises now, from slick gasps to half-whined "Uh's" and "Ooohh-mmm's". By now, both boys are only half aware that they're supposed to be gaining the attention of Zashton.

Niall swung his right leg up, hooking it over Luke's hip and moving his hands to unbutton and unzip Luke's jeans as they kiss, stopping the dry humping for a second so Niall doesn't get denim burn from his current task. They're both already just wearing socks, so Niall doesn't have to hesitate in wrenching Luke's jeans fully off, Luke sliding an inch or so down Niall's body with the Irish's eagerness. Luke forgets to be sly and lets out a breathless laughter, diving back down to his boyfriend and sucking on his tongue like he's sucking Niall's dick as this time it's Luke fumbling with Niall's trousers.

Helpfully, Niall raises his ass off the couch so that Luke can yank his jeans down, and now they're both in boxers and their shirts, returning to their lazy, heavy grinding and sloppy, wet filthy kissing now fully aware that Zayn and Ashton are staring owlishly at them, gripping each others hands slightly tighter than the lazy hold they had before. The slick sound of kissing with soft groans has now fully over-powered the TV. Because Ashton muted it.

Luke smiles against Niall's mouth and reaches up. Subtly, he taps Niall, the signal they decided on for when their plan started to work, and both boys go on ignoring their staring tops as Niall whines, tossing his head back. Luke takes the cue and reaches for the pillow under Niall's shoulder, pulling out the pot of lube they hid there earlier. (Seriously, from the moment they didn't get sex on Monday  _or_ Tuesday the boys began to panic and plan). Pulling away and letting their sliding tongues semi-show, Luke slunk his way down Niall's body while Niall settled a hand in his hair, half pushing him down.

Luke wasted no time in pretty much ripping off Niall's boxers, watching Niall's erection rise to attention against his stomach with a meek purr of approval before he leant forwards, using one hand to take Niall in his hand and begin suckling at the head while his other hand nimbly flips the cap on the lube, Luke humming and Niall whining when two slick fingers slide up the crease of Niall's ass, Luke using his arms to push Niall's leg open further, his right one falling off the edge of the sofa with a thump.

Zayn and Ashton have moved now, both of them facing Luke and Niall, with Ashton leaning back against Zayn, head on his shoulder and Zayn mouthing at his ear while he palms Ashton off slowly in his jeans, neither of them taking their eyes off the two blonds on the other couch, because now Luke is fucking Niall with two fingers, sucking him off with Niall's left leg slung over his right shoulder, Niall using his hand to guide Luke, head tossed back and spine arched so much the middle portion of his back isn't even on the couch anymore,.

By now Niall is full on moaning, mouth open, shoving Luke down on his dick while also rolling back on his fingers, Luke rubbing relentlessly with his fingertips at that smooth little ball of nerves, that special little place that has Niall shaking, arched tighter than a violin string and panting like a dog. After a few moments Niall is pulling Luke up by his hair, slicking up his own fingers as he pulls Luke into a kiss, and then (though it's a bit of a stretch for Niall) the two boys are fingering each other just as sloppily as they're kissing.

They're both fucking each others fingers by now, Ashton palming Zayn off as well as they two tops watch their boys finger-fuck each other, loving how at times the two will just freeze, panting into each others mouths and groaning, the pleasure locking them up muscle to muscle. It's Zayn who breaks it after the boys have been going for at least five minutes, gently squirming out from behind Ashton and dragging the younger boy along with him towards Niall and Luke, who look up at them both, still joined lower lip to lower lip, panting.

Zayn physically lifts Luke off Niall and the couch, mindful to be wary of the fingers buried in Niall's ass and the fingers buried in Luke's ass and the two bottoms barely get a word out before they're dumped gently onto their stomachs on the fluffy rug, side by side with Zayn and Ashton kneeling behind them, shucking off their pants as quickly as they can while Luke and Niall share a brazen high-five and worm-wriggle out of their shirts and spread their legs ready.

Ashton can't resist ducking his head to kiss the tip of Zayn's length before the older 1D lad can even think about getting his hands on Luke, and it makes the Malik rip Ashton up by his hair, thoroughly tongue-fucking him for a moment and tugging on Ashton's cock while the other top squirmed, fingers digging into Zayn's bicep and when they pulled away sloppily, parted by an impatient whine from Niall and a soft "For fuck's sake" from Luke, they descend on their boys with matching grins. 

Zayn sinks into Luke first, knowing Niall is nothing if not thorough when it comes to opening up. Luke barely has time to even register the hands by his arms when suddenly he's full to his throat, shoved forwards an inch through the soft red fluff beneath him with a breezed "Ooooh,  _fuck_ " that has Niall giggling besides him and waiting impatiently for his turn,wiggling his ass a little as Zayn stays patiently where he is, mouthing sweetly at Luke's shoulder and giving him time to adjust.

Also giving Ashton time to hurry his sweet ass up, so Niall doesn't feel left out of it. Because lord knows Niall would turn around and bite both their manhoods off if he thought they would start the fun without him. Thankfully though, it turned out that Ashton was just being his usual worry-wort self, taking a moment to use two fingers to make sure Niall was prepped enough that pain would be a complete minimum. "Here you go then, baby boy" Ashton hummed softly, draping himself over Niall like Zayn had Luke, head dropping with a groan as he sunk slowly into Niall's tight, wet-smooth heat.

Zayn busied himself with rocking his hips just minutely, to keep Luke entertained while they waited for Niall to adjust, both bottoms panting into the red fluff they lay on and both tops gently petting and massaging their boys as they waited. After a moment, Ashton gave an experimental rock of his hips that had Niall biting his lip and fluttering his lashes, and it was decided all was good. Well. All was always good but this was fucking  _great._

Ashton kick-started things off first, grabbing a fist-full of Niall's hair and gently tugging at it as he slowly fucking up into Niall, the blond letting his head fall back, eyes glossy and fingers twisted in the rug fur, soft keening noises falling from his mouth in time with Ashton's soft little grunts. Zayn gave a coy smile, leaning down against the ghost his teeth over Luke's shoulder then nip the tanned skin lightly, a pleased whine tearing from Luke's throat along with a soft 'mmph' sound.

Zayn is the first to switch things, ever so gently guiding Luke up onto his hands and knees, one hand linked with Luke's while the other settled on Luke's hip, his thrusts slow and ready, filling Luke up inside so he was stuffed full with his boyfriend, Zayn getting so deep Luke imagined you could see Zayn moving through his stomach. Besides him, Niall was very much the same, still on his stomach, but with his arms bent behind his back, held there by one of Ashton's hands while the other held him down by his hair, the Irish lad on his knees and only able to lay there and take it.

Both bottoms are pliant under the bodies fucking them, moaning and panting into the fur with their eyes glossed over and Luke gives a full-body shudder when Zayn bites the shell of his ear, reaches out to grip Niall's hand when Zayn bites at his neck and shoulder again and Niall shoves back against Ashton when the younger lad gently yanks at his hair in time with driving, deep thrusts. It's all soft and quiet and sweet in the silence of the house, all four boys smiling at each other lovingly.

While nobody can even  _hope_ to have as much stamina or...inventiveness as Harry and Louis, who always seem to be doing  _something_ together, the boys all know what they like and when and where they like it, and it's good. It's great. And with a nod from Zayn, Ashton slows down his fucking even more, lets go of Niall's hair to drag the boy up onto his knees, hands splayed on his stomach as he holds the Irish lad up and back against his chest and Niall, who knows what's coming (excuse the pun) practically begins to drool.

Luke, who knows what's coming and loves being able to treat Niall like this, practically drags  _himself_ up, barely giving Zayn time before Luke and Niall are kneeling in front of each other, Zayn speeding up his thrusts slightly, nipping at Luke's neck. "You see that, baby?" Ashton whispers in Niall's ear, nodding to where Zayn is fucking up into Luke as he holds the younger boy up, Luke's mouth open and his head fallen back against Zayn's shoulder. Niall can only whine in response.

"Gonna give you what you want now, Ni. Gonna let you have it all" Ashton murmurs, eyes locked on Luke's flushed cheeks, on the soft bounce of his cock where Zayn is tenderly but thoroughly fucking him now, winks when Zayn's caramel eyes flick up, lock on them both with a warm, coy expression and then Luke's eyes squeeze shut and he starts a mantra of breathless, keen "Uh uh uh"s and Zayn nods slightly and Ashton lets Niall go, gingerly pushes the Irish lad onto his hands and knees and blood hell, the star  _already_ has his mouth open for it.

Luke cums a few second later, practically bowing in half backwards, hands tight in Zayn's hair as the ebony haired lad sinks his teeth gently into Luke's shoulder, Niall moaning filthily as the thick, hot liquid splatters onto his face, drooling over his lower lip, oozing across his tongue and dripping from his lashes and Niall looks like he's in Heaven, a blissful sigh breaking the moan as he licked his lips, only to be chided by a smack on the ass from Ashton. Zayn was already shuddering through his own release, driving up into Luke like a  _horse._

Ashton started lengthening his own thrusts then, as Zayn carefully lay Luke out on the fur, easing out slowly and gently, kissing Luke sweetly and almost shyly as he did so. Neither Ashton nor Niall felt ignored or un-wanted. Zayn had fucked Niall so thoroughly two weeks ago the Irish boy spent two whole days blissfully in bed, and a little before that Ashton had even let Luke and Niall get off to him riding Zayn for the first time. (Getting fucked was great, but there was a special something about getting to bury himself inside one of his boys).

Ashton kept up the tugs on Niall's hair while with his other hand he jerked Niall off slowly and smoothly, thumb rubbing at the slit, listening to Niall's stuttered moans and pulling his hand away quickly when Niall went taut, head falling back with his mouth open, Luke's cum dripping down his face while his own painted his chest white, and not a second after Niall keened Ashton was exploding inside him, Niall jerking a little like he was so well done he couldn't function anymore. 

Zayn purred, reaching forwards to ruffle Niall's hair then neatly scoop up all the cum on Niall's stomach, smearing it around his mouth for a moment before Niall was eagerly sucking on his fingers like a baby with a bottle, lapping up everything Zayn fed him with a pleased hum, and then Luke and Ashton joined in too, Ashton leaning over to give Luke a sweet little kiss, then Zayn before the four of them settled into a puppy pile, boneless and content with the two tops watching fondly as Luke tenderly scooped the gloop off Niall's lashes then ran it in a soft line down Niall's tongue. 

Yeah. Things were  _fantastic._


	7. I'll Be Your Fifty-Thousand Clapping Like One (Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Luke Hemmings, Ashton Irwin, Calum Hood, Michael Clifford]
> 
> It's like being left in the dark. Like one day you were all standing in a line in a dark room, a single light shining down on each of you and suddenly your light goes off. It was like he was gone, like he didn't exist anymore to the boys he considered his brothers.  
> Or maybe he just wasn't good enough.
> 
> {{Prompt: Malum  
> hey, I was wondering if you would write this prompt. It's basically an ot4 friendship where Luke, Ashton and Michael are always hanging out and never invite Calum so it leads to Calum being really insecure about himself and they don't notice until something happens on tour. I'd like for it to be from not eating but if you don't want to do that it's fine. Thanks}}
> 
> (Friendship - OT4 - Cuddles - Angst - Sadness - Ignoring - Bingeing and Purging - Bulimia - Anorexia - Sadness - Hurt!Calum - Clueless!Boys - BigBrother!Michael - Punk 5SOS - Canon Famous - On Tour - Touring - Little bit of fluff - Shy!Calum - Insecurities - Insecure!Calum - Apologetic!Boys - Passing out - Mentioned 1D boys)
> 
> **Title is from Love Runs Out by OneRepublic

"Calum looks  _unimpressed_ " Ashton calls out from his seat on the sofa and Calum raised his head, surprised. He gave a questioning look and soft sound but he was ignored as the other two lads crowded Ashton to see what he was talking about, and they vaguely agreed. In all the VMA pictures bar a few, Calum looked uncomfortable and unimpressed and maybe even...bored?

"He's just a grumpy kitty" Michael sing-songed, surging off the couch and ruffling Calum's fluffy hair as he passed to get a drink, the tanned boy still in a state of mildly wounded confusion. He had an idea of what they were talking about, but still. They knew he was shy. They also knew ceremonies and things like that made him feel awkward and claustrophobic a little. He just hated thinking everyone was judging him or that he was doing something wrong or that they'd all write articles just based on how weird and fucking awkward he is alone.

That seemed to be the end of it, Ashton going back to mouthing lyrics as he flipped around on his iPad and Luke tailing Michael into the kitchen because Michael was pretty much the only one here who could actually cook (Without burning the house down, too!) and he was hungry. Calum stayed where he was, slouched on the sofa, mouth still open and brows slightly furrowed before he decided to be cool as ice and just...let it go. After all, the boys said things like that most of the time anyway. This wasn't any different....right?

After a little while Calum got up, padding silently up the stairs. As he passed the kitchen he could hear Luke and Michael, their hushed voices floating over the sound of opening packaging and he smiled, glad Michael had forgiven Luke for painting his eyebrow piercing bright pink ("Oh my fucking  _god_ you dick it could get  _infected!_ "). 'Muke' was the tag-team of the band, the Harry and Louis of 5 Seconds of Summer and that was how it should be. Still smiling as he headed into his bedroom, Calum shut the door with a quiet 'snick'.

Turning around, he headed for his closet, pulling open the door until he could see all of himself in the full-length mirror. Calum liked looking in mirrors. It wasn't a narcissistic thing. It was purely because...well. You could see  _yourself._ And not just in a picture. It was like having a clone. You could see every detail about yourself, even your pores if you leant in close enough and sometimes Calum just liked to stare, look himself over. He'd once heard someone on TV say that it was thought if you met an exact replica of yourself, you wouldn't recognize it because the way you saw yourself was completely different from how you actually are.

Calum wonders if it's true. Wonders if another him walked through his bedroom door right now, would he know himself? Would the floppy black hair, the apparently 'plump' lips and the dark eyes be his? So sometimes he just stands there, silently looking over every inch of himself, tipping his head left and right and watching his reflection mimic his actions. Sometimes he touches the mirror, imagines he can feel his own skin under his fingertips, instead of smooth metal-glass stuff. He doesn't do it often though. The fingerprints annoy him.

Slowly, he tugged off his shirt, stood there and watched himself breathe, imagined his ribs stretching and curling inside his body, imagined his heart thumping behind his muscles. Double-taked because did he even  _have_ muscle? Calum already knew he didn't eat as much as the average person. Sure, he could pack away a horse when the occasion called for it, but he just tended not to snack or anything. He wasn't anorexic. He wasn't a bag of bones. He just ate his three meals a day and rarely picked between meals. He had no trouble eating ice cream or chocolate, it didn't bother him.

Besides, no matter how much he ate it never stayed on long. When the boys weren't recording or performing they were in the gym. When they were on the Where We Are Tour with One Direction, they'd always join Harry in the gym because he didn't intimidate them as much as Liam's huge muscles did, or Zayn's stony concentration. Louis and Niall somehow seemed to build muscle while being allergic to the gym rooms. But Harry had been giggly and bouncy and helpful and slowly but steady he'd coached them on the best ways to fitter, even tossing in gym exercises that could help their singing, too.

Calum wasn't skinny per se. More...lithe? He had muscle, it just wasn't as pronounced as the six-pack that Michael had suddenly smacked himself into. (Honestly, that boy could eat, but whatever he ate seemed to just solidify into muscle the second he even  _looked_ at a set of weights.) He wasn't fat, either. Sure, he had a teensie little podge that he could just about pinch, but everyone his age had that, right? They were still growing. It was nothing to break a sweat over. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and slipped his shirt back on, covering his new tattoo. (Ashton had smacked it on accident straight after he'd come home with Michael and Luke from the tattoo parlor then proceeded to shriek as loudly as Calum had when he realized his tattoo was in fact on the left arm, not the right like he'd thought).

"We're just heading out for some shopping, Cal!" the shout rang up through the floorboards and Calum barely had time to turn around before the door to the house was slamming shut, leaving him standing alone, blinking. "Luke? Michael? Ash?" he called, padding over to his door and leaning out. Silence greeted him, and Calum sagged a little. It took all three of them to go shopping? Or more to the point, it took three...but didn't call for four? Swatting away the niggling little....sadness(?) that came over him Calum headed downstairs, poured himself a glass of Pepsi, then Calum decided to make himself useful.

Milling around the house, he collected all of the dirty dishes and put them in the sink, got out the mini vacuum and did the two couches and the counter-tops, did the corners of the rooms and the skirtingboards, put that away and then made all the beds. Headed back downstairs and wiped down all the counters, tidied the fridge and threw out all the expired food, gathered all the dirty clothes from the boys' room and took them down to the laundry room, sorted them into piles ready to wash and stuck a load in. He was just coming back downstairs from tidying Ashton's room (He needed another drink after  _that_ before he even thought about the other rooms) when the front door erupted open.

The boys didn't seem to see him for a moment, all piling into the kitchen with the sound of rustling bags and loud bickering and then Ashton was exclaiming loudly "Hey, are getting cleaner? This place looks clean, when did we clean it?" and Luke shouting back "We haven't!" and then Michael backing out of the kitchen with his hands raised. Luke, wielding a large meat cleaver aimed at Michael followed him out, and it was he who noticed Calum paused mid-step on the stairs and Luke gave him a brief wave before surging for Michael, the older boy nearly falling backwards into the living room and then Ashton was surging after both of them, shrieking that playing with knives was  _not good._

Calum gave a soft sigh. He knew how long  _that_ could go on for. Padding into the kitchen, Calum unpacked all of the abandoned bags onto the table then scrunched the bags up, putting them in the little box in the bin cupboard for later use before he began to put everything away, humming Social Casualty as he did so. All of the boys really connected to all of their songs (Bar 'Pizza' because they'd been high when they thought of it and even higher when they went to the recording studio at two in the morning to record it) but at the moment, even though it was Michael who'd written this one, Calum really connected to it.

The mentioned 'girl' in the song was actually all of them, chasing their dreams and not wanting to be normal, just wanting to get away and live the life they now had. Hell knows that Luke, Michael and Calum used to run away nearly every other week, taking a train to a random city and staying there until the local Police knocked their door and politely asked them to come with them because their parents had traced the GPS on their phones again. Though really, all three of them and their parents knew they'd never stay in their city long. They'd always come back after a day or so, bright eyed and glowing and in a dazed state of dreaming.

Loosing himself in his thoughts, Calum finished putting everything away, got a banana and another glass of Pepsi and headed upstairs, putting on their latest Album as he nibbled slowly at half his banana then started doing a slow and steady pace of push-ups, sit-ups, crunches and a few minutes of weights before he gave himself a minute to cool off, finished his banana and threw on a random movie.

He must have dozed off, because when he woke up it was dark outside and the house was silent, his TV having timed itself off. Sliding out of bed, Calum went into the bathroom and as silently as he could, had a pee, washed his hands and brushed his teeth and then washed his face, before he tip-toed across the hall to Ashton's room. The door was open and his bed was still made, and a quick pad around revealed the same empty, clean spaces. Frowning slightly, Calum crept downstairs and into the living room and from the light of the selection screen of A Good Day To Die Hard, he could see the other three boys puppy piled in the sofa, fast asleep with the coffee table littered with dirty dishes from dinner. 

Giving a mix between a fond smile and a frustrated sigh because he  _just_ cleaned up, Calum reached behind the second sofa for the blankets they kept stashed in random places around the house (Along with random stashes of medical kits, snacks and bandannas) and carefully draped it over his three best friends, pushing Ashton's bandanna up off his eyes carefully, brushing Michael's hair from his face and wiping away a smear of sauce on the corner of Luke's mouth. Saying a silent goodnight, Calum went back upstairs to bed, feeling calmer. 

**~**

It got worse.

Slowly but steadily, it got worse. It was like Calum was just...fading away or something because the boys seemed to be forgetting about him. They still talked to him, joked around and ate dinner with him, but it was getting less and less outside the house. When the boys had two interviews in two days and had to stay in a Hotel for the night, the other three had piled out of the bus, bickering over who got the beds by the windows even though they knew Calum slept better when he was near the window, and leaving Calum standing by the van, watching them go with a slightly wounded expression. 

Calum came home from shopping one day to find the boys all sitting around the table, happily eating dinner and they'd looked at him surprised when he walked through the door, as though they hadn't expected to see him or something. At a small concert where they played as a supporting band, the other three had chosen to wear matching bandannas and left Calum out of the loop, which meant he was the odd one out when they played. And as usual, Michael and Luke had been all over each other, play-grinding as they rocked out on their guitars and then pretend-sexy-timing with Ashton as he drummed, leaving Calum by himself in a corner of the stage most of the time.

And slowly, all this constant worrying turned into something else. Calum, without even realizing it, began to forget to eat. It started off little, Calum only grabbing a tiny little snack bar or tangerine for breakfast, spending most of his time up in his room listening to Coldplay or watching One Direction's latest shows, time slipping by until it was nearly dark and all he'd have then was a bowl of cereal or another piece of fruit. When he wasn't in his room, staring at himself in the mirror and wondering what he was doing wrong, or what about him was wrong, Calum was at the studio, taking a booth away from the few team members that stayed there sorting out sounds and their latest recording parts to practice.

He'd sometimes just sit there, strumming thoughtlessly at a guitar with no real aim, staring at his thighs and thinking maybe, just maybe they were a little too fat? Was he gaining weight? Is that why the boys didn't want to be seen with him? Calum shooed the idea away almost instantly, shaking his head at himself. God, way to be over dramatic. The boys were just probably so excited about their up-coming mini-Tour and he was quiet most of the time anyway that he was just over-thinking this. It was probably always like this and he didn't realize. He was just picking up on it now because he was so nervous.

Other times he'd completely rock out, headphones on, blazing his guitar as he sang one of their songs solo or covered another song, bouncing on his toes and tossing his head, eyes shut as he lost himself in his music, completely zoning out to the world around him. Most of the time he chose Social Casualty, or Don't Stop. When he chose to play quietly in one of the rooms, he chose Amnesia or Little Things. Once, he'd just finished singing Social C, breathless and panting and he'd opened his eyes to see Luke, Ashton and Michael standing in the doorway of the main studio, watching him with unreadable expressions. They hadn't said anything, thrown themselves into recording like normal but it'd been...different somehow. 

Calum was drinking a lot of water now he was barely eating. It stopped his stomach rumbling and kept him full enough for ages. Plus, it kept his skin smooth and clear when he fixed lemon juice in with it. He had realized he was barely eating, but he was still eating at least part of a meal a day at one time, and hopefully it wouldn't last long. Just until the start of the Tour, he promised himself.

He lied.

The first time he threw up he'd just finished eating dinner alone up in his room while the boys ate downstairs, and then the boys left to go clubbing with quiet shouts of "Bye Cal!" up the stairs, not having asked at all if he wanted to come. Calum had sat on his bed cross-legged, tears brimming in his eyes as he stared at the sickly thick smears of sauce on his plate as he began to panic. What did all this mean? What was  _happening_ to them? To  _him?_ What was so wrong about him that they didn't want to be around him anymore? He was doing his best. He wasn't eating as much, was working out more to try and bulk up, he'd changed his wardrobe to be as punk as Michael's and he was practicing so much his throat was raw and stung, closed tight through his breathing and he had cuts on his fingers from playing so much.

He panic had slowly begun to build until Calum was falling off his bed, gagging as he padded into the bathroom and promptly fell on his knees, throwing up the three sticky BBQ ribs and the small handful of chips he'd eaten before. It tasted foul and acidic and the bathroom reeked of vomit almost instantly but once he'd flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth with mouthwash, then brushed his teeth and scrubbed his tongue Calum felt...lighter. And that sickened him almost as much as not eating did because he knew it was  _wrong._ But...surely this once was okay, right? He hadn't forced himself to throw up. Hadn't planned it or anything. He'd probably just felt sick because it was the biggest meal he'd eaten in a week and his stomach had shrunken in size. So it was all good.

After cleaning the bathroom to get rid of the smell, Calum fell back into bed with a cramping stomach and a tight throat and cheeks damp with tears.

But he felt better. 

**~**

Six weeks until their tour. Six weeks to try and make himself perfect, to try and be good enough that his friends wanted him again. Six weeks to get that scale down to 100ibs. That was a good weight if it was all muscle, right? That wasn't too low, surely. Steadily, Calum was loosing himself. Loosing himself like someone might turn to drink or drugs only he wasn't turning to them. He was turning to not eating, and lately, he'd been throwing up his food, too. After that first time, whenever he ate anything more than an apple or light piece of fruit he felt bloated, like his stomach was as big as a pregnant woman's and it made him feel heavy, fat and thick all over and it worked from there until it was panic that stuck in his throat, made him excuse himself and drop to his knees in front of the nearest toilet and throw up until he was dry heaving.

He never forced himself. Never seemed to need to. He was so tense all the time, expecting the horrible feeling of food in his stomach and the vile taste of acid that his stomach was nearly always cramping on itself, forcing the food back up. When he did manage to keep the food down, it tore him apart, made him restless and panicked with tears glossing his eyes and his breathing ragged until he knew it was safe to do so and fled to the gym, working out until he was dripping sweat and he felt light headed and dizzy and by now, Calum didn't care.

Because he was doing this for the boys and he loved the boys. And if you're doing it for someone else it doesn't matter, right? And that's what he told himself each time make-up tutted at him for the dark circles under his eyes or the bloodshot veins that twisted towards his irises, or his suddenly pasty complexion. They told him to get more sleep, but it was all Calum seemed to be doing lately. When he wasn't working out, throwing up or practicing, he was sleeping. Even the quickest journey in the van to the studio or to a show had him dozing off, head against the window.

Wardrobe had stared at him with a mixture of bemusement and worry when they ended up having to bring in clothes a whole size smaller for him because he'd lost so much weight of the past four weeks. They frowned each time he excused himself to the other room to change shirts or clothes instead of just shedding them in the main dressing room with everyone else. People asked him if he was okay lately because he seemed quieter, skinnier and more tired than usual but he'd always put on a happy smile, nod and say he was fine. Probably just loosing a little weight because he was stressing so much over the up-coming Tour. Because it did actually happen. Niall had told him once that as well as throwing up blood all the time, Harry had lost nearly a stone during and for a little while after their X-Factor days because he'd worried so much.

The boys kept asking if he was okay too, always coming up to his room to check his forehead or give him a glass of water or make sure he was warm enough, but they still never went out with him. Still bounced around as a a trio on stage but stayed mostly still when they sang with him. It kept Calum on edge, grinding his teeth or poking at his stomach and thighs every two seconds because surely he wasn't too fat for them now? He'd dropped nearly a whole stone so far and there was still four weeks to go now. He still walked around, constantly hungry and sleepy and light-headed and sometimes he lost time, remembered going into the studio but opened his eyes back in the van, the boys staring at him with delicate 11's lines between their brows.

Calum knew it was getting out of hand. Knew he should tell someone. Anyone.

But he didn't. Because if he did, it was game over. They'd make him eat more and keep it down and he'd gain weight, and everything would go back to how it was before. Most of the recording done, Management had actually put Calum on a singing ban. His voice was so taut and strained and raspy from over-use and not enough nutrition, but being tight all of the time because he was so tense and panicked that the team feared he'd loose it if he carried on singing so much (They all thought it was down to all the practice he'd been doing lately).

Michael sang his parts when they practiced, and Calum had to have the volume on his mic adjusted so when they played a small show he could sing quietly, but have it sound like he was singing full power. Twitter and Tumblr were blowing up about it, with grainy pictures of close-ups on his eyes and images of a tired looking Calum practically being dragged around, sweaters and shirts hanging off him, his arms skinny but muscled in places where his working out stopped him going like a twig and the food he was forced to keep down when they all ate in public kept him going. 

The first time anything big happened was when they went to TGI Friday's to celebrate having two weeks to the start of their Tour, and Ashton, thinking he'd been doing good, had ordered Calum's usual because Calum had been in the bathroom washing his arms because Luke tipped coke on him when the waiter had come for their orders. Calum had had to eat it, bite after bite he'd forced down with shaking hands and an increasing feeling that the food was just getting stuck in his throat until he'd eaten it all, setting his fork down with a clatter and Luke had turned to him, beaming, patted him on the stomach and said cheerfully "Packed it all away there, Cal!" because it was the most he'd seen Calum eat in a while without looking like he was going to die, and Calum had gone white as fresh Alaskan snow, made a strange choking noise and fled from the table and the boys had frowned, Ashton practically throwing the money at the waiter and Luke and Michael racing after Calum.

They'd gotten there too late but nothing seemed to stop Michael, because he kicked open the cubicle door next to Calum and flung the toilet seat down, jumping up onto it before he swung-vaulted himself neatly over the wall into the cubicle where Calum had just thrown up in, still teary and shaking and pale as he flushed the toilet, drool coating his lower lip, which began to tremble before he cried, curling up in the corner and Michael barely remembered to unlock the door so the other boys could get in before he was on his knees, mopping at Calum's face with tissue while the others crowded in, and then the three of them were dragging a shuddering, seemingly out of it Calum towards the van, the boy skinny and slightly bony in their grip, Ashton and Luke sharing a worried glance when they felt just how much of Calum they could hold now.

Calum had slurred apologies until he'd passed out in Michael's lap in the van, and the boys had spent a tense, silent ride home staring at him. While they tucked Calum up in bed, the boy shivering and shuddering as he rolled onto his side and curled in a ball, Luke did the only thing he could think of that wouldn't result in an even bigger publicity explosion than they'd already created, and phone Liam Payne. Daddy Direction always seemed to know what to do and what was happening, and Liam picked up on the third ring, voice rough from sleep and Louis shrieking at Zayn as a background.

An hour long phone-call later and they'd all concluded Calum in fact just had a fever. Maybe the flu, and as long as they gave him lots of water and let him sleep it off and kept him clean, Calum would be fine.

And the boys did, spoon-feeding him light soups and glasses of water and dragging him into the bathroom to shower with at least one of them always sleeping in his room to keep an eye on him. And steadily Calum seemed to get better. Unable to throw up around the boys, the soups Calum was eating gave him nutrition and strength again and all the rest brought a little colour back into his cheeks. 

Of course, it didn't last long. 

**~**

This was it. 5 Seconds of Summer were on the plane and heading to Toronto for their first show. Halfway through the Tour they'd be catching up with One Direction, and they'd finish their mini-Tours together. For the past two weeks, Calum had been exactly like he had before the TGI's incident. He'd sip down soup under their careful eyes, pretend to fall asleep then silently throw up in the bathroom. He ate small meals when they ate out, saying he still didn't have much of an appetite and another call to Liam had assured the boys that was normal after a sickness as heavy as Calum's.  Calum would pretend to make himself some food, take a plate up to his room and smear it with some sauce or bits of left over pasta or veg and leave it by his bedside to make them think he'd eaten.

He was still sleeping as much as he had before, his body not having enough energy to cope with the full days that the boys were doing and slowly, they'd been coaxing Calum back into full power, full time singing. His voice was still slightly raw, but he sang just as good as normally, and Michael and the other boys agreed on high notes or powerful notes or ones that needed to be carried, they could all drown out Calum's voice a little, just until he got it back to normal and that made Calum want to scream because now he wasn't a good enough  _singer_ for them?

The first week of Tour went okay. Calum got through the shows with minimal voice cracks and dizzy staggering, and the boys all went out and partied as a trio, going back to their way of not asking if Calum wanted to come, or leaving without so much as a goodbye. Their Management team had handled the TGI incident well, arranging an interview so a thick-voiced Calum could say he'd just caught something, flu or similar, and that he thought maybe it was having eaten so much, or just that being sick plays with your senses buy the food hadn't sat right and he'd run because throwing up on your best friends in a public restaurant was  _way_ worse than creating a mild scene by fleeing. Soon enough the situation had calmed down, One Direction helpfully shifting the weight off 5SOS by announcing an up-coming Album four months before it was supposed to be announced, and by a planned slip on stage by Harry, bless him. 

Still. Calum could see the pictures and theories floating around on Tumblr and Twitter and they made him cry because 90% of them were  _right_ and he knew it was wrong but it was like trying not to breathe. He  _couldn't stop it._ The boys didn't seem to notice anything different, they still made sure that he drank lots of water during the day and slept on the buses and planes, but on stage they stayed mostly on one side while Calum stayed on the other, they drowned him out on specific notes and they went out for meals and to parties without him. They still fell asleep in puppy piles while he was left to one hotel bed or the seat by the window in the van. They still never even asked if he wanted to go out with them, crept around making plans for days out without talking to him.

It was in a show back home in Australia that things fell apart to the point where even Calum could see it. Where the whole fucking  _world_ could see it.

It was boiling hot but Calum was in a shirt, unwilling to go shirtless like Luke and Michael and unwilling to go to a tank-top like Ashton because you could see it ribs now, all of them clear again his skin and his hip bones were sharp and pronounced, like beacons. Calum was sweating so much his hair was already stuck to his forehead, plastered down like he'd taken a shower and his make-up was tacky from the sweat and coating his fringe in a slightly gloopy coating barely visible. Make-up had re-done him four times but eventually given up, wiping it all off, towel-drying his hair and just leaving it.

Calum's heart was thumping so hard it hurt, his chest aching like someone had stabbed him and was twisting the knife and his head pounded. Each time he swallowed his throat was dry and rough and it got worse when they exploded out onto stage, the screams deafening and making Calum wince. He was already out of breath, gasping for air as Michael, the bands frontman, gave a peppy introduction, Luke twanging out dramatic chords on his guitar and then like usual they launched themselves into performance. They always made their Aussie shows their best, because it was home. This was  _their_ turf and they were going to fucking  _own_ it.

Four songs in and Calum was rocking out with black spots in his vision, his hearing half gone and most of his body close to numb. It was almost like a stroke only he knew it wasn't one because his stomach was cramping and his throat was tight and when he caught sight of the screens he looked panicked, like he was surrounded by men with guns or running through a forest on a dark night with something chasing him. He looked  _wild_ and wrecked but then Michael leapt to the center front stage, raised both his hands, their cues to get in place and get ready for Social Casualty. 

Calum took his place, legs spread, head and arms high, and they rang out the first round of "La da la's", dropping a little for the intro line before Michael and Luke smashed it on their guitars, both dramatically taking a sweeping stomp to the right as they crammed down on the chords, throwing their hearts into their singing as Ashton played his drums like it was his last night on earth before he was taken by the flames of Hell themselves and Calum was singing, god he was singing but it was so...hard. So  _hard_ and now he couldn't breathe and everything was one big blur.

And he knew the screens where on him, could see Michael and Luke bantering over to the left of the stage, Michael playing on his knees, he and Luke side on as they made it look like Michael was about to give Luke a blowjob before Luke jumped dramatically back, the screens on them now, then to Ashton, then back to him as he jumped up on the section of stage like he normally did, swung his bass to his hip and forced himself to keep his head up, to grin and nod his head in time with the music as he played, his arms already aching. It was okay so far. It was okay. Barely.

And then it was a disaster.

Calum finished playing his bit, his voice breathless in his mic as he jumped once, twice, dramatically stomped to the side and then his eyes were rolling and he was falling, collapsing boneless off the side of the stage, the fans screaming in horror now as Calum's mic amplified the sounds of the crashes, Calum falling limp into the support structure besides the stage, crumpling over the bars then falling out of sight to the concrete below with a crunch that cut off the amplifying of his mic with eerie silence. Ashton was already up and away from his drums, racing across the stage while Luke and Michael shed their guitars as fast a possible, security flooding out of the entry tunnels along with the medical team, keeping back the flood of screaming, crying fans.

Ashton leapt up over the panels and onto the one Calum had been on, sliding to a halt and looking down, panting. There was no music playing now, just the medical team gingerly picking Calum's crumpled form out of the shattered remains of his bass, and then Michael and Luke were besides him, tears in their eyes as they watched their best friend being half laid out on a carry stretcher, the strap of his bass cut off so what was left of the guitar fell to the ground and then they lifted his limp form up fully onto the stretched, scraped across his face and his shirt flat on his chest to reveal his skinny little body, hip bones jutting up. 

Four security members came up onto the stage, half guiding and half-wrestling the other three boys off the stage.

**~**

Calum was close to waking up. That's what the doctors had told the three pale, exhausted boys who stayed at his bedside day in and day out, taking turns for a quick shower, with men dressed in black bringing them clean clothes and taking their dirty ones away each day, bringing them food on trays. Calum's mother Joy had been like a hurricane when she stormed through, and the Doctor's had told her the situation first. That once all the pieces of Calum's bass had been picked out of him with tweezers and they'd sewn up the lash given by a snapping string, that they'd discovered the actual cause for his collapse.

Calum had been so starved, so over-worked his body had started to give up on him, that it must have been going on for months to get this bad, that any later and his body would have started shutting down, and it would have been too late. She'd been taken out of the hospital screaming, and the boys had exploded in not four seconds after she'd gone, storming through the place like a hurricane and stopping at nothing until the Doctor's agreed to tell them, to let them see him. It had all been "Medically induced coma" and "Shutting down" and "Starvation" and "See this damage to his internal organs? Bulimia.." until the boys had been left sitting there, silent and holding each others hands, tears hot and acidic on their cheeks. 

They'd been left to it, sitting there in a kind of daze at Calum's bedside. He looked so small, his hands slender, arms thin and body nothing but a thin straight line under the blankets, tiny little slopes and juts where his bones stuck out, his breathing slow but regular. He'd wake up anytime soon, they said. Anytime today, tonight at the latest.

They couldn't believe it.

The One Direction lads had Skyped them, worry across their faces and eyes damp with tears. They'd seen it all, they said. Liam was worse, saying he should have known, should have done more than just told them it was the flu. They all consoled each other until the older lads had to go. The press was all over this, every newspaper and magazine full of screenshots and pictures and articles claiming the worst. The boys had been banned from Twitter and Tumblr and Calum still hadn't woken up.

Two hours later and the three boys are asleep bar Michael, their heads resting on the edge of Calum's bed, their sleep restful, if not peaceful. Michael was slowly working his way towards sleep, but he'd been an insomniac for years, staying up with also-an-Insomniac-Harry when the boys toured together, and keeping himself company when it was just him or just the band. And all this stress, this fear and panic meant he was more awake then ever, but he still lay there, eyes closed and breathing even and then he felt the hand in his hair.

It was slightly heavy, but light and intentful, slender fingers carding sluggishly through the strands and Michael opened his eyes, found Calum looking down at him, head lolled to the side, a weak smile on his face and fresh tears in his eyes and Michael had to bite his tongue not to cry, because Luke and Ashton needed this sleep. Needed this peace. "We thought you were going to die" Michael mumbled, reaching up just his arm to slowly, carefully hold Calum's hand, thumb brushing the edge of the raised skin where the IV ran into his hand, another in the crook of his elbow. A tear slid down Calum's cheek, and the younger boy mouthed an apology.

"You...know?" he asked after a moment, and neither of them needed detail to know what Calum was talking about. Michael nodded, carefully shifting to sit upright now, using his free hand to tuck the blanket draped over the other two higher up on their shoulders. "Yeah, I know" he responded after a moment, his head down. It was getting dark outside, and the setting sun was mostly filtered by the blinds on the windows. "Why?" he asked, after a pause, looking back up at Calum and Calum looked away, at the wall.

"I thought-" he broke off, his voice was scratchy and rough and it hurt like hell to talk, and before Calum could reach for it Michael was holding the glass of water to his mouth, letting him take a drink before he set it back down. "I wasn't good enough. I thought I wasn't....enough. For you guys. You never seemed to want to be with me and I thought it was because I was too fat," he paused, taking a moment to catch his breath, holding up a hand to stop Michael when the boy began to talk, shaking his head.

"I thought maybe my singing wasn't good enough, or I was messing up on the bass or something. I don't know...you just never asked if I wanted to go anywhere with you and you always seemed to ignore me" Calum finished, his voice a hoarse whisper by the end of it and tears rolled down both their cheeks now, Michael gently stroking Calum's skinny, frail arm. "Fuck, Cal" Michael whispered back shaking his head slowly, vehemently. 

"We never used to ask you to things like clubbing because we knew you didn't really like it that much. And then you started going really quiet and sleeping all the time and spending ages in the studio and we thought you wanted your own space, and you started looking ill so we didn't want to make you sicker by stopping you eating and shit" Michael breathed back, and suddenly Luke and Ashton were sitting bolt upright, nodding their heads, tears in their eyes, too.

"We thought you  _wanted_ alone time" Luke and Ashton chorused, voices deep from sleep, worry and the attempt to fight back tears. The two put their hands on Calum's arm gently, the tanned boy shaking now in the semi-darkness, making raspy, wet sounds. "You just...you started spending more time away from us and we thought maybe you were homesick or just wanted to spend some time alone....if we'd have known" Ashton began quietly, and Michael slung his free arm around them both, Luke nuzzling into his shoulder.

"We called Liam, when you threw up in TGI's. We all thought it was the flu....you never...we always said you had the best body, Cal. We always said we'd want to date you and I always say you have a great ass...why would you..." Luke trailed off, hiccuping slightly over a hitched breath and Calum used his other hand to reach out, groggily stroking Luke's hair. The heart monitor was slow, the beats steady but speeding up slightly now and then. The Doctor said that was normal, would happen due to the induced coma they'd put him in over the past few days. 

"I thought you didn't want to be seen with me because I was too fat or not good enough" Calum rasped back, and the three of them stood, hugging him as gently and carefully as they could, shuddering at the feel of each and every single bone against their bodies. "You'll  _always_ be enough, Cal. You could have three eyes and tentacles and we'd proudly be seen with you anywhere" Michael hushed, the others managing weak giggles over their agreement.

**~**

Things were getting better, slowly. 5 Seconds of Summer had apologetically cancelled the last of their Tour, making an announcement that the reason for Calum's recent sick appearance and on-stage collapse was that he'd caught an over-seas sickness that got worse when they began to travel again. The fans ate it up, sending millions of get-well gifts and messages and at every single show One Direction got the fans to shout a 'Get Well Baby Cal' into the held out mics for their boys.

Calum stayed in hospital for a whole month, steadily learning to re-eat and keep it all down. And he was doing well. They started off with water-thick soups, little spoonfuls now and then and worked their way up. To show their support, the boys ate the horrid stuff too, choking it down and giving Calum their best 'mmm this is yummy' ploys. He'd laugh at them, knowing full well how nasty the stuff tasted, buy he'd dutifully sip down the few spoonfuls he'd been given. When they let him out of hospital, saying he was okay enough to leave but he should take it easy, try to stay inside or just go in the garden if he wanted fresh air. Told him to stay out of the sun for long periods of time.

The boys barely ever left his side, coaxing and helping him move onto paste-like foods, and eventually onto bits of banana and oranges, and in just two months after being released Calum was eating small portions of solid food again, and none of them could be happier. The 1D boys had stopped by on the last leg of their Tour to say hi, sing to Calum and try the 'Soup From Hell' they'd heard so much about.

5SOS had plans for a world-over Tour, joined here and there by 1D. But this time, One Direction was  _their_ supporting band, and this time, Ashton, Calum, Michael and Luke would be supporting each other more than ever. Calum was consulted about every single out-of-house trip until eventually he threw a pillow at the three of them and said that if they asked him about shopping one more time he'd kill them, and that was when they knew it was going to be okay.


	8. Baby If You Want Us All You Gotta Do Is Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Harry Styles/Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson/Liam Payne/Zayn Malik/Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin/Calum Hood]
> 
> Michael may only be a couple of weeks pregnant, but he's 50x more of a horny teenage boy than he was before and, well. The boys have always been weak at resisting him.
> 
> {{Prompt: some girl  
> hey, i had given this prompt to this girl on here, but she never wrote about it. it's about one direction and 5sos gang banging michael and louis and have michael pregnant please. you can choose if its consensual or non-con. and you can choose if they're famous or not too. you can make this either a oneshot or a mini fic. please fill this.}}
> 
> (Bottom!Michael - Bottom!Louis - Mpreg - Top!1D boys - Anal Sex - Slow sex - Slightly rough sex - Brief Bottom!Harry - Fingering - Blowjobs - Handjobs - Rimming - Doggy style - Kinky kind of riding - Orgasm denial - Cumplay - Cum feeding - Breeding - Breeding kink - Slight Dom/Sub dynamics if you squint - Consensual sex - Canon Famous - Younger!Harry - Younger!Michael - All the other boys are 19-20 - Michael+Harry are 18)

It's been four weeks since Michael came staggering into the living room, opened his mouth then passed out before sitting bolt upright in bed two hours later and screamed "One of you fuckers knocked me up!".

Harry and Liam have been the most fatherly, barely giving Michael two seconds to himself even though he doesn't half  _a quarter_ of a baby bump yet. They've all fucked Michael time and time again so there's no sure way to know who's the father without a DNA test, but the second Calum mentioned that Niall had practically hissed at him like a poked snake, agreed with Michael that they were all in this messy, huge relationship together and thus the baby would have nine daddies. 

How that was going to work, none of them had  _any_ idea. But they'd make it work. Zayn's been as faffy as Lirry have but on a more subtle scale, as per the shy Malik's persona. Luke had passed out the second Michael finished screaming and Calum had spat a glass of cola all over himself in shock while Louis, who'd been heading downstairs had fallen down every single step with a shriek. All in all the revelation was a chaotic as having eight boyfriends was but it was perfect in everyway because it was so... _them._

The only (slight) problem though? Michael's sex drive had already increased. He'd always been a horny little shit long before getting pregnant but now it was like he knew he had an excuse and knew the boys were more powerless to refuse than ever. Michael was getting fucked at least once a night now, any way he desired for as long as by desired by who he desired and he was loving it, soaking up every second. Louis was already whining about having a sore arse, but now that Michael was pregnant, Harry seemed eager that Louis get all bred up too.

After all, it  _was_ Larry Stylinson that got them all involved in this big relationship. Harry didn't care if Louis' baby wasn't his. After all, Louis didn't just belong to him now. And Louis always reprimanded him like a dog when Harry seemed to be getting possessive or slightly jealous. They were a team now and that's how things worked. Nobody was with just one person. You had eight boyfriends each and by fuck you loved them all equally. Calum was the shyest about that, always feeling like if he kissed one boy he had to kiss all of the others so it was fair, but they found his mild awkwardness sweet and endearing. 

Now though, most of the boys are half asleep in Liam's bedroom (It's the biggest) with a random movie on play and Harry and Zayn quietly, slowly and sweetly kissing under the covers when Michael decides that just won't do. Sure,the Zarry kiss looks like it's going nowhere but the covers move with their heads and there are still soft, slick noises now and then and  _fuck_ it makes him want to drag both of them up by their hair and make them fuck him together. That thought sends his skin prickling with electricity and he promptly turns to Niall besides him.

Niall barely manages to half crack open one eye blearily, aware by the dip in the bed it's him being faced when Michael's on him, kissing him sweetly but firmly with his fingers in his belt loops and then Ashton's making an indignant sound from behind Niall at the sudden added weight on his spine, grumbling and stretching out and knocking into Louis who smacks him with a sleepy "Fuck off you twat" that has Liam turning to  _him,_ starting off his usual spiel about bad language and how they should get into the habit of not using it now ready for the baby.

Calum started whining about needing sleep and Luke rounded on him with a bitchface before Harry was surfacing, just his head, eyes glossy, lips red and bitten and slick with saliva and his cheeks flushed, curls flattened to one side of his head. "Oi! Guys, stop bickering" he called out and everyone bar Niall and Michael turned to face him. Zayn popped up a second later, breathless and looking the same as Harry, huffing. "Yeah, guys. Just kiss and make-up, yeah?" he asked, and Luke opened his mouth, about to bitch when Louis elbowed him in the ribs with a meaningful glance and he meekened down.

A loud moan drew all their gazes to the foot of the bed, where Michael was grinding down on Niall like pleasure was his oxygen and he'd just run a marathon, Niall's rocking making him press back against Ashton, who in turn was being rocked between Louis and Calum, the two boys squirming with expressions of equal pleasure and discomfort. After a moment Zayn voiced a quiet "Fuck it" and shoved his tongue down Harry's throat again, rolling over to pin the baby of the two groups to the mattress, already looking intent on spreading him open.

Slowly but surely the boys where piling up, tongues sliding slick and filthily wet together, the boys swapping like cards between them, all grinding and rocking almost lazily until everyone was sporting a stiffy, Louis whining from where he was pinned between Ashton and Liam, Ashton rubbing against his dick and Liam's tick 10.2 riding the curve of his ass from behind, their wandering hands lighting up his skin. Michael's already fully hard, can feel his own pre-cum sliding down his length almost like a hint. It makes him pull back, fumble for Niall's belt as he points to the bedside table.

"Lube All of it, now" he demands and instantly like a good boy Harry's taking one hand from Zayn's pants to rip open the drawer then roll the four pots of lube in Liam's ownership (He flushes even redder) across the bedding. Michael's shoving one of the pots into Niall's hands a second later and hears Louis crow a"Hell yea- _uuuhhh_ " from nearby before he's being flipped over over to his stomach, knees spread and ass raised, head and hands landing in Luke's lap, who looks down at him and grins, tugs hard on his hair like he knows Michael likes before he's distracted by Zayn dragging him across the bed by his own hair, bringing him over by Harry.

By now most of them are already nearly naked, clothing forming a ring around the bed on the floor. Louis is on his back, Liam mouthing at his cock through his boxers while Ashton is slowly and slyly making Louis suck his fingers wet. "Gonna fill you up so full of cum you'll look months pregnant, not weeks" Niall murmured in his ear as he yanks Michael's jeans down and Michael whines, Zayn popping up from stealing Harry's breath to nod and purr.

"Gonna breed you so full again, Mikey baby. Breed you like the pretty bitch you are and Louis' gonna get bred up nice and good next to you" Zayn hummed and that had Louis flinging himself across the bed to flop down next to Michael in a starfish, grinning brightly and needily. Michael opened his mouth to say something but then there was a tongue on his ass and he forgot how to function, shoving back on the slick, thick appendage with a whine and Louis was arching next to him, Liam taking him down like a pro, two fingers already up his ass.

They're all naked now, the room nothing but hot air and slick, wet sounds, breathless gasps and choked moans and hitches of breath. Zayn is on his back now, Harry over him, jacking Zayn off as they kissed with Luke's face buried in his ass, hands on Harry's hips. Ashton is kissing Louis like his life depends on it while Calum jacks them both off slowly, snuggled to Ashton's side like a toddler, mouth open in bliss. Michael was panting like a dog, teeth clamped onto the bedding as Niall fucked him with his tongue, relentless and slow. 

 It stayed like that for a while, Niall adding fingers at some point until Michael was writhing in bliss and then there was the sound of multiple caps popping open and Niall gently tugged on Michael's hips, bringing him up a little and spreading his legs before he hummed softly, kneeling over Michael and lining himself up with one hand. Michael was impatient, rolling his hips the moment he felt the soft, slick roundness of the head of Niall dick against his ass and then Niall was leaning forwards, Michael moaning loud enough to wake the dead as Niall pressed in slowly, little by little. 

Not to be outdone, Ashton was laying on his back next to Michael, head pressing back into the bedding with his eyes squeezed shut in bliss, Louis sinking down smoothly on his cock like he was always open for it, whining as Liam mouthed at his neck from behind. Calum, Luke, Michael and Zayn where in a little bundle, frozen, watching the five boys across from them with their mouths open, arms welcoming when Liam backed away into Luke's chest. Louis was already fucking, rolling his hips in circles and using his thigh muscles to lift himself up and down, Ashton's hands on his hips.

Niall was slowly fucking into Ashton, muscles tense as he practically ground against Michael's ass, aiming to fuck him deep rather than focusing on speed and Michael was keening, squirming on the bed like he didn't know what to do. The sounds of slick wet noises, panted breaths and skin hitting skin filled the room now, none of the other four boys touching themselves but remaining hard anyway. Michael was already shuddering, nearly on his way to cumming but there was a hand tight around the base of his dick and he gave an indignant sound, looking up at a sly, semi-apologetic Niall right before the blond stiffened, face a picture of bliss as white-hot filled Michael from the inside out and left him twitching and moaning.

Besides him Ashton was holding Louis up, fucking into him almost viciously with his forehead against Louis'  sternum, face scrunched and a mantra of grunted "Uh uh, fuuuck fuck fuck uh" falling from his mouth before he went taut all over and Louis' head was lolling backwards, finger bruises appearing on his hips where Ashton was gripping him tight enough to break skin, but carefully not doing so. Suddenly aware that Niall was still in him even though he was sinking to semi-hardness Michael opened his mouth but then Ashton was nodding, flipping Louis over and he and Niall pulled out in unison.

Quickly replaced with Liam and Calum, Liam settling behind Louis while Calum ever so carefully lay down next to Michael, lifted the whimpering bandmate up so now it was Michael who'd be doing the riding, and Louis who'd get it doggy style, Liam's huge dick already snug between Louis' ass cheeks, Liam waiting patiently, stroking Louis' cheek as a tender, eager for an orgasm Michael was quickly lowered onto Calum's cock before any of Niall's cum could leak out and Michael realized Liam's choice of dick placement was also to stop Louis loosing any love.

Zayn and Harry where kissing again now, and if he craned around Michael could see Zayn had a hand between Harry's thighs, too far back to just be playing with his nuts. Before he could comment though Calum was easing him up, fingers gentle and light against his hips and Michael turned his head, giving Calum a shaky smile with the boy fondly returned as he sank Michael down tenderly on his cock again. Besides them Louis was making sticky sounding noises and all eyes turned in his direction for a moment.

Liam was so large that sex with him was  _always_ a snug fit no matter how much prep you did, but the boy was so gentle that whatever burn you felt was drowned by tender kisses and pauses and soft tugs on your dick that made you white out in bliss. Louis was on his hands and knees, eyes screwed shut, mouth open like a dog begging for it as Liam bottomed out, staying there to give Louis time to adjust. The pause didn't last long though because Liam draped himself over Louis' back, hands on Louis' hips then started to slowly fuck him.

Calum, getting with the programme, began to fuck up into Michael in earnest now, but still tenderly, filling Michael up to his stomach and Michael loved it, squirmed and rocked his hips when he imagined his stomach full, be it with babies or cum it didn't matter. He wanted it. Calum was moaning now, head tossed back as he rocked up into Michael, Michael so tight around him, the sloppy feel of lube and cum making Calum nearly lose control, nearly start to fuck Michael like Ashton had fucked Louis. Besides them Liam was fucking into Louis like a wild animal, Louis bouncing back and forth on his cock like he needed it to live.

From the corner of his eye Louis noticed Luke jacking off slowly, head fallen back and he reached for him with a whine, got his attention, frinned up at him breathlessly. "Spit-roast me, Lucas" he purred, and Luke didn't need telling twice, shifting to kneel in front of Louis, hold him gently by his hair and guide his cock into his mouth. Luke waited patiently, timing it so when Liam thrust forwards, so did he, the two of them using Louis like a bitch bench.

Michael affronted, opened his mouth to tell Harry and Zayn to get their asses to him  _now_ only Calum was suddenly crying out hoarsely, tossing his head back, spine curling as he filled Michael up with another round of cum, managing to grin up at Michael as he did so. "Bred you so full, haven't we baby?" Calum asked, reaching up with one hand to cup Michael's cheek then he brought it down, slowly jacked Michael off until the boy was near screaming as he came, splattering Calum's upper chest and face with warm, thick cum which Calum scooped up, carefully finger-fed to Michael.

Louis and Liam were already collapsed, Louis' head in Luke lap, the oldest of them smiling drowsily as Luke used a fingertip to push from of the cum on his mouth back onto his tongue, Liam inching out slowly but keeping Louis' hips up with a pillow so none of their cum leaked out. "Bred them both so well" Liam agreed, his voice rough only suddenly there was a kitten-ish mewl from behind them all and each of them turned to look so fast they got whiplash.

Harry was on his knees, cheek pressed into the bed, head held down by a hand fisted tightly in his hair, his arms pulled and folded behind his back, held there with Zayn's other hand, the baby of the band on his knees as Zayn fucked into him, cooing at him gently. "Such a pretty bitch. Silly, submissive little kitten" Zayn purred, and catching the others staring, their chests heaving, mouths open, winked at them. 

Yanking Harry up by his hair, Zayn pulled out, gently dragging Harry over by the others before he lay down on his back, made a 'come here' motion with his finger at Harry and the boy crawled to him eagerly,swung a leg over Zayn's hips and sank down onto his cock again with a shudder and a look of bliss. Michael, knowing what Zayn (and everyone else) wanted, inched over and lay on his stomach by Zayn's head, facing Harry, drowsy but eager for this one last treat. 

Harry was just on his knees now, legs open with Zayn's hands on his waist, the older boy fucking up into him like Harry's nothing but a hole to be used and filled. Harry's bouncing on his cock, head tossed back, curls flopping like the waves of the ocean over his eyes repeatedly, bouncing softly as his mouth fell open, eyes scrunched shut in pleasure and then he's cumming just as Zayn is, Michael catching most of it on his tongue and it's a load nearly as big as Liam's, as per usual for the shy Cheshire boy. 

While Harry slumps onto Zayn's chest, sated and heaving Michael turned his head, met Louis in a kiss that turned sloppy instantly, the two of them passing Harry's cum back and forth until their kiss was slick and creamy and then they swallowed as they kissed, drinking it all down until there was none left.

Yeah, the lads had bred their boys well, even if Zayn  _had_ been too horny to wait. 


	9. You Look So Perfect Standing There In Our American Apparel Underwear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Luke Hemmings/Michael Clifford/Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin]
> 
> {{Prompt: LiterallyLashton  
> hi :DDD could you write about how luke is walking around the 5sos house in panties and one of the boys sweaters that go to his thighs and the other 3 get extremely turned on and fuck him/have him ride them or something i would be so happy :DDDD}}
> 
> (Bottom!Luke - Top!Michael - Top!Ashton - Top!Calum - Slow sex - Anal sex - Smut - Fluff - Sweetness - Panties - Panty!kink - Sweet sex - Cuddles - Kissing - Slow kissing - OT4 - Foursome - Fourway - Butt plugs - Mild cum play - Cum feeding - Grumpy morning Michael - Ashton can't cook - Innocent!Luke - Punk!Michael - Punk!Calum - Punk!Ashton - Luke's punk too but only in public ;D - Mentioned bottom!Michael - Dirty talking - Ever so slight almost A/B/O dynamics or Dom/Sub dynamics if you had a microscope - Daddy kink - Hair pulling kink - Post-sex cuddles - Puppy piling - Sweet sex - Lip ring play)

Waking up Michael Clifford was like waking up Smaug. Even if he'd only dozed off in the van the boys were hesitant on waking him and cautious while doing so. Ashton had even bought one of those claw hand thingies on a stick for when it was his turn to wake him up (The idea had backfired  _instantly._ He'd been poking the lump under the covers when Michael's hand had shot out, ripped the stick from his grip and smacked him with it before letting it drop and retreating back under the covers. Ashton had returned down stairs with a bruised cheek and a wounded ego).

Today was no different. Calum's name had popped up on the random generator they'd downloaded to see who woke Michael up and the boy set about with his own method. Calum, true to his slightly shy nature, simply left cups of coffee on Michael's bedside table, just an inch out of reach and hid behind the doorframe until the smell of coffee lured a porcine-haired Michael out of bed and then the awake boy had no choice but to sit up for his coffee. Don't get him wrong, sometimes it didn't work at all and Calum was left to fall onto one of his back up plans.

But today the coffee method had worked (Suck that, Ashton) and Calum hid in his room until Michael had showered, dried off, styled his hair and was heading downstairs and then he tip-toed along behind the oldest boy of the band, following him into the kitchen where Ashton was just dishing up four plates of bacon. Well, technically three plates. One plate was empty and so was the kitchen bar the three of them. Luke was still up in bed, and on one of their rare days off the lads like to let their baby boy sleep in. Especially after he'd blown them all last night.

Michael and Calum took a seat, Ashton slipping into his own and there was silence until Michael bit into a piece of bacon and the thing shattered like glass, Michael swearing loudly and Ashton looking sheepish. Calum quietly sniggered, but he was tactfully cutting up his bacon so slowly the meat was just splintering off on his plate, not in his face. The conversation started from there, as usual. Michael insulting Ashton's cooking, Ashton indignantly defending it and Calum eventually having to shush both of them because Luke was still asleep and they were acting like  _animals._

Calum needn't have feared though, because just as Ashton was collecting the empty plates and putting them in the sink, there was a soft shuffling sound from upstairs and then the sound of light, socked footsteps on carpet as Luke began to pad his way down the stairs. The conversation had turned to their last Aussie show now, Ashton chipping in as he dished the last slices of bacon onto the empty plate from earlier, and just as he was setting down the pan, a sleepy looking Luke padded into view through the kitchen door and Michael swore again, Calum sucking in a soft breath and Ashton dropping the frying pan that last inch onto the cooker. 

Luke stood there, blinking sleepily at them with his unstyled hair falling forwards towards his eyes. He was wearing The Jumper, a jumper that really belonged to all of them. (One Direction had one too. A pink-purple knit that originally belonged to Louis but had eventually made it's way around all 5 boys and now they just shared it. 5SOS's jumper had originally belonged to Calum's before Luke wore it once and stretched it.) It was baggy but slim and although Luke was the biggest out of all of them it hung over his hands in little mittens and came mi-way down his thigh.

It was a near shimmery looking black, sleek and soft to the touch with 'See it want it get it' printed all across the hem of the jumper and a pretty blue galaxy print with the 5SOS logo in the center and the 1D logo behind that. Calum had had it custom made from Britain but had barely seen it on himself since it arriving in Australia. Ashton had stolen it almost instantly, and Michael always took it in the evenings to wear when they cuddled. But now, seeing it on Luke when he was sleepy and soft and shy made their hearts (and something further south) swell.

"What?" Luke voiced, and the boys nearly shivered because his voice was soft but thick from sleep and scratchy from yesterday and it made Michael's pupils blow and Calum squirm in his seat, Ashton still holding onto thin air before he coughed gently and looked away, slipping near shakily back into his seat. Luke rolled his eyes at them fondly, and pushed away from the doorframe, heading to Calum. He gave the boy a hug from behind, kissing his cheek slowly before he padded over to Ashton, snuggling up to him and petting at his stomach before last but not at all least he padded over to Michael. 

 Michael who, already grumpy at being woken up, refused his hug and turned his head away until Luke took his wrists, guiding his hands to his ass and burying his nose in Michael's neck as he made Michael slide his hands down a little and Michael's eyes blew wide, lips parting but before he could say anything Luke was taking bacon from his plate and padding away into the kitchen, leaving Michael licking his lips and the other boys looking between the doorway and Michael with astounded expressions. 

" _Panties_ " is the single word Michael managed to strangle out and Calum nearly fell out of his seat, Ashton clutching onto his (other) boyfriend. Michael was thankful he didn't tell them about the butt plug hidden by the panties or they might have had to make a trip to A&E. The three boys remained in the kitchen for a little while in a stunned silence. Luke in panties wasn't new per se. He'd done it once or twice already. But...it was  _majorly_ hot and each boy knew the boy opposite was already sporting a semi just from the knowledge. 

When they'd finally collected themselves and their boners had tamed down, the three of them stood and meandered into the living room where Luke was curled up on the couch, snuggling one of the pillows and fixedly watching Magaluf Weekender on the TV. Ashton bagsied the seat next to him, and Michael the seat next to Ashton, tucking Calum up to his side while Ashton let his head rest on Luke's shoulder and they stayed like that for a little while until MW finished and Luke decided it was a good idea to  _clean the house._

So Michael, Ashton and Calum sat there, trying and failing not to watch Luke bending over and leaning around all the time as he cleaned up the living room, gathering dishes, sorting out blankets and wiping over surfaces. Ashton had had a coughing fit when Luke had bent over, revealing white frills hugging the globes of his asscheeks and bordering the end of black lace that dipped into the crack of said glorious ass, the shape of the plug clearly defined through the near sheer black panties. They were new, which meant Luke must have either ordered them online, or when he and Harry went shopping for a birthday present for Niall, Luke bought them secretly.

Calum was the only one who managed to stay pretty cool about this, simply never looking away from Luke's ass and licking his lips every twenty seconds. Luke seemed to know he was riling them up because he sashayed around with a little smirk on his face, licked his lip ring now and then or tossed his flopping hair from his eyes. An hour later and he decided the living room was clean, padding back to the sofa to give each of them a quick, chaste kiss before he quipped "Off to clean my room" and bounded away, scrunching his jumper to show the lace hugging his smooth, tanned skin, ass bouncing as he skipped up the stairs gracefully. 

"I swear to god I'm gonna bend him over and make him cry" Ashton muttered, and when he looked up he met Michael and Calum leaning forwards, looking at him with surprised puppy expressions because something like that had never come from Ashton before (Bar the time Michael pissed him off and he verbally beat him down before dirty talking him as he bent Michael over the hood of his car at three in the morning with their neighbors able to see the whole thing and Calum and Luke dithering in the doorway, caught between watching and getting them inside).

After a moment both the other boys made a near silent sound of agreement before they forced themselves to carry on watching the TV, staring at the Music Top 20 sightlessly, eyes clouding over in fantasy and lust. Luke came back down just as it was reaching the top 5. Michael had gone to get a drink a little while ago and now Michael was seated at the end of the sofa, Ashton next to him and Calum next to Ashton. Luke headed for where Michael was, no doubt about to force him out of his seat so Luke could cuddle the end again when Michael reached up, yanking Luke down onto his lap by the frills on the hem of his panties. 

Luke gave a surprised 'oomph' while Ashton and Calum's lips parted, before they shuffled a little to the left, giving Luke space to shift to he was straddling Michael's lap, hands on his abs. "Think it's funny, huh?" Michael asked, and besides him Ashton shuddered. Michael's voice had done that thing where it was low and gravelly, like Harry Styles' but rougher, jagged like the edges of rocks in a sea storm and husky with lust. Luke practically dropped his panties there and then, gazing down at Michael with his lips parted but silent, pupils blown.

"Gonna show you what happens when little twinks like you go wearing panties. Gonna fuck you nice and good, fill you up then pass you on to the boys like a little slut" Michael murmured, head tipped so he was talking with his lips just barely against Luke's, jaded emerald eyes on his boys. Luke gave a soft exhale, readily pushing his ass out as Michael reached down, one hand unzipping his pants while the other slid down Luke's spine, slipped into his panties and then Michael was curling his fingers around the butt plug, twisting it out slowly while Luke swatted his hand away, pulling Michael out of his boxers himself. 

"We're going to fuck you hard and good, until you're like a proper little slut and can barely walk, and then Calum's going to shove that pretty little plug straight back in your pretty little ass, keep you full of us until we say so" Michael purred, hands on Luke's hips under the soft fluff of the jumper, lifting his boy up against his chest, Luke spreading his legs a little wider. "You're going to be a good boy, aren't you?" Michael asked, keeping Luke's mouth right by his own, eyes never leaving Luke's.

"Yes, Daddy" Luke responded, voice a little high, a little breathless and Michael smiled coyly. "Good" he responded softly, before promptly shoving Luke down on his cock. Ashton and Calum gasped in time with Luke, their eyes wide as Luke sat quivering in Michael's lap, head ducked down a little, spine arched, ass a little back, the lace panties still on but shoved aside, a pleasant roughness against Michael's dick as he sat patiently, letting Luke adjust. Nobody was worried about Michael going in dry. Luke always prepped so thoroughly you could fuck him four hours later and still find him sloppy and open.

It was barely a minute before Luke was raising his head, spine curving, mouth finding the corner of Michael's, light and mildly desperate as he nodded. "Ready, ready Daddy, so ready" he mumbled, and Ashton was pressing a palm to his crotch to try and stave off the burn of arousal through his veins as Michael hummed in response, lifted Luke up an inch and held him there, sank his ass into the couch as much as the plush filling would let him before in a slow, smooth drag he pushed back up, slowly filling Luke up inside, thick and hot and he went as deep as he could, Luke's eyes fluttering slightly as Michael didn't pause, pulled back down.

Done easing a few trail thrusts, Michael held Luke up another inch, glanced over to see Calum cuddling up to Ashton, both of them watching with blown pupils and then he looked back up to Luke, caught his gaze and held it like glue as he began to thoroughly fuck up into his boy, Luke giving soft little noises, Michael's hands on his hips bouncing him up and down on Michael's cock as Luke moved one hand to cover one of Michael's and brought the other to Michael's hair, tugging hard each time he was dragged back onto Michael's dick, stuffed so full he felt heavy with it, sparks of white heat shooting up his spine with each upwards piston of Michael's hips. 

Michael's head was back, but his ensnaring gaze was still holding Luke's, both of their fringes bouncing over their eyes and flopping as Michael fucked up into Luke and Luke ground himself down each time he was yanked down on Michael's dick, his soft little noises turning to deep, throaty moans and then to high-pitched, slightly slurred "Oh oh oh's" and seconds before he was about to cum Michael suddenly stilled, moaning as he rolled his hips slowly, grinning breathlessly up at Luke, who whined at him pleadingly, erection hidden by the baggy jumper but the feeling of white heat, thick and hot filling him up from inside sated him a little.

"Daaaddy" he whined, but Michael shushed him, shook his head and suddenly lifted him up, slung Luke into Ashton's lap where Calum scrambled besides him, quickly tugging Ashton out of his boxers and jeans as Michael zipped back up and Ashton raised his head, kissed Luke slowly and sweetly, tongue licking at the rim of his lower lip, one hand flat across his ass to stop any of Michael's cum leaking out. When Calum took his hands away Luke was instantly plopped gently down onto Ashton's cock, both boys gasping into each others mouths softly. Ashton was sweeter than Michael, keeping his hips rocking just an inch or so, hands rubbing Luke's slim sides through the jumper as he kissed him, gave him a moment to catch his breath and adjust. 

Calum was practically simmering now as he watched them, catching sight of Michael over Luke's curved back. The oldest boy looked smug and suave, arms spread out on the back of the couch, head lolling, expression chill and smug as he lifted his gaze after a second, winking slowly at Calum, who lost sight of Michael when Luke suddenly hitched his breath, hips moving in a smooth circle as one of Ashton's hands drifted tot he small of his back, guiding and silently instructing Luke as Ashton began to fuck up into him, slower than Michael had but still with intent, Luke bouncing lightly on his thighs, the roughness and the bite of Ashton's zipper against his thighs grounding him as the burn of arousal in the pool of his hips grew to a forest fire, lighting up his skin.

Luke was needy, having been on the brink of orgasm for so long, so sloppy and so warm inside as he panted into Ashton's mouth, eyes squeezed shut, internally begging for permission to cum. Ashton was speeding up a little now, grip a little tighter, pushing Luke down onto his dick now with each upwards thrust, like Michael had as he bit at Luke's lip ring, tongued it eagerly while Luke whined above him and then with a final thrust that bounced Luke nearly onto his stomach, Ashton was cumming, tossing his head back with a loud "Fuck!". Luke was also swearing, both in pleasure and desperation because now he  _really_ wanted to cum. "Fuck, p-please Daddy" he panted and Ashton shushed him, kissed his cheek, leaving Luke sitting on his cock as he reached across, unzipped Calum and pulled him out.

Once Calum was ready and settled Ashton hefted Luke up, holding his weight with Calum as Luke sank slowly onto Calum's cock, then Ashton let go, zipping himself up and snuggling against Michael's chest, the oldest boy mouthing at his neck lazily as they watched their other two boyfriends. Calum was the sweetest out of all of them when it came to sex, and it showed right now. He used his hands, gentle and feather-light to shift Luke so he was sitting back on his thighs, both of them sitting upright instead of slouching like the other two.

Calum wrapped his arms around Luke in a cuddle, fingertips of one hand toying with the thick white frills, smoothing over the rumpled, slightly wet material as he shushed Luke gently, kissed away the tears of pleasure on his cheeks, kissed his mouth lightly, angling his hips so each thrust of his would not only hit Luke in that special little sweet spot, but would also mean Luke could get friction from Calum's stomach. "So  full already, baby" Calum cooed, reaching up briefly with one hand to brush aside Luke's hair, then he went back to hugging him. "So sloppy and wet with it. They fucked you good, didn't they? You're such a slut for us, Lucas. Such a good boy" he soothed, cuddling Luke close to his chest, peppering kisses along his cheeks.

When he did start to fuck Luke, it was slow and sweet, nothing but gentle rocks of his hips, more of a grind than anything, the two of them making peaceful, soft noises as they kissed, Calum's hands soothing on Luke's skin under the jumper. "Oh my god" was Luke's breathless narration, arms wrapped around Calum, mouth on his but neither of their lips moving as they panted softly, Luke rolling his hips, grinding down on Calum now as Calum stilled, letting Luke take over. "Reminds me of that scene from Game of Thrones with that huge Kahl guy and the dragon girl" Ashton voiced and Michael found himself humming in agreement.

It wasn't long before Luke was giving soft, fast "Uh, uh, ohh, uh uh's" again and then he was scrambling, shoving up Calum's shirt while Calum smiled softly through his own gasps, pushed up Luke's jumper and then Luke was  _finally_ cumming, head falling back, eyes rolling, whole body going concrete rigid. The sensation of clamping Luke around him made Calum jump, crying out quietly as white light took over his vision, the only thing he could feel was Luke's cum, thick and warm splattering over his chest and then he was panting, opening his eyes to cuddle Luke as best as he could without getting his jumper sticky.

Luke opened his eyes, looked down at Calum with a breathless, sated grin, dragged his fingers through his cum idly like one might play with water before he scooped some up, ran it along Calum's lower lip then pressed his finger in when Calum opened his mouth, preened when Calum sucked the cum off his finger slowly, abs flexing with each heaved breath.

Yeah, Luke was _definitely_ wearing panties more often. 


	10. One Key For Two Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood + Ashton Irwin/Michael Clifford]
> 
> 5 Seconds of Summer are a family, above anything else. Come whatever, they'll always be together, as Ashton once made up when he accidently accepted a joint while drunk once. This is just a little snippet of their new life, with fame, family and love thrown in the mix. 
> 
> {{Prompt: psycopathic_sock  
> Allo :) Hey, I'm a pretty simple person so I was wondering if you could do a prompt where we take a look into the life of calum and Luke's established relationship. But it's not just about them, like its kind of a day in the life of 5sos, but mostly centered around Cake. Bonus points, if you add Ashton and mikey both coming to terms with being gay/bi after living with the happy couple for so long, and they shyly hook up :) thanks, cheers :)}}
> 
> (Cake - Side Mashton - Fluff - Recording - Comfort - Kisses - Cuddling - Sweetness - Band practice - Mikey just wants Nutella - Calum is on Tumblr too much - 'Now kiss' meme - Cake are proud parents - 5SOS are four idiots - Security has given up - It's chaos - They break the stage - Mentioned sex - Slight injuries)

 

(Inspired and slightly based off [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-sdygnXfwgM) video)

"Mikey".

"Mikey".

" _MICHAEL_ FUCKING _GORDON CLIFFORD!"._

 _"_ Ow.  _Rude_!".

Ashton skulked away out of Michael's room clutching his stomach in pain and without a roused bandmate to show for his efforts. It sucked (But was actually adorable) that Michael was the grumpiest morning person ever. Except the times were you really did come away with a pain in the ass. Literally. 

Reaching up to haughtily wriggle his bandanna back into place, Ashton swung himself left and headed for the stairs, bouncing down them loudly and obnoxiously in the hopes that by doing so he could wake Michael up, while at the same time being far, far away from Michael and Michael's morning wrath. "Hey baby, even though I hate ya I wanna love ya, I want to!" he sang, tossing his head back so his honey curls flicked up and back (and then stubbornly fell straight back over his eyes again).

Skipping into the living room, Ashton was met by the sight of Calum laying on the sofa, both legs sticking up straight, hands behind his head, headphones on. He was humming along to whatever was playing, hair hanging down and long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks and Ashton could definitely see what appealed to Luke. Luke Hemmings, who was as of yet, MIA. Leaving Calum to his music, Ashton bounded for the kitchen, intent on vegemite and toast for breakfast only to find Lucas curled up in a ball, cradling the vegemite jar against his chest and quietly singing "All I wanted was vegemite on toast" in a sad, sniffly voice.

Huh. Looks like it was just buttered toast this morning, then. 

Luke, noticing he had been joined, stopped his sniffling and hauled himself to his feet, tossing the empty vegemite jar into the little box in the corner labelled 'Glassy item stuffs. Sharp, don't touch' and stretching out luxuriously with a yawn as he reached for the bread. "Moooorrrrrrrrning, Ashy boy" he hummed, pulling out eight slices of bread and setting two in the toaster while Ashton got the butter from the fridge. It was a gloriously sunny day and Luke was feeling FAF. Fine as fuck.

Ashton responded with a cheery "Good morning!" and Luke wrapped him up in a hug, nuzzling into Ashton's cheek before he shoved him away, tossing his head back and howling "Get outta my kitchen, bitch!". Ashton laughed, but held his hands up and retreated. Luke gave a triumphant snort and nodded assertively, before shrieking like a five year old girl and leaping two miles into the air when the toaster let out a loud  _ping!_

Choosing to ignore his reaction as nobody else saw it, Luke set in another two pieces as he neatly buttered the ones on the counter in front of him and then munched on them happily. As he ate his way through his own two slices, he toasted and buttered the other six slices before setting them out on plates in pairs and then carefully, he carried the plates out into the living room. He whistled loudly like he was calling dogs and a few seconds later Ashton came bounding in from the studio room. He tapped Calum on the thigh as he passed him and the little Kiwi rolled over blearily, batting his headphones away and then sitting upright with a perky "Oooh, food!".

Miraculously, a sleep-soft and kittenish looking Michael came padding down the stairs silently, his bright blue fringe covering both his eyes. Luke, ever the paternal one despite being the youngest, set down the plates of toast onto the coffee table and then caught Michael by the shoulders as the older boy headed for the couch. Michael halted, standing pliantly as Luke clucked his tongue and reached up, smoothed down the silk-soft fluffy blue strands and then gently brushed his fringe to the side to reveal fan-fiction green eyes and long black lashes that dusted Michael's cheekbones when he blinked.

Luke cooed and Michael responded with a soft little snuffing sound before Luke gently pushed him onwards towards the two couches. Ashton scooted aside on his and patted the seat next to him and Michael hesitated for a moment, before taking his plate of toast and plopping onto the couch like dropping a tiny stone into water. Instantly, Ashton shifted a little and then Michael was molding to his side, fitting him curve for curve and resting his head on Ashton's shoulder as he closed his eyes, holding his toast by his mouth and nibbling at it like a smurf hamster.

Calum cooed at them teasingly before he was reaching up, making grabby hands for Luke and the toast and Luke laughed, ignored the food side of things for a moment to fall lightly into Calum's lap and gently take a handful of sleek, soft ebony hair as he leant forwards, velvet lips meeting plush, plump, soft ones firmly as he kissed his boyfriend, decided to tease the boys and opened his mouth, licked at Calum's mouth deftly and make sloppy kissing sounds as Calum seemed to catch on, kissed him back slickly so the noise of it filled the room and Ashton lasted all of twelve seconds before he cried out, using his toast to block the sight while using his wrists to cover his ears.

Luke laughed and pulled away from Calum, sidling into the seat next to him happily and tugging the Kiwi's gangly (but so, so  _perfect_ ) legs onto his lap before he handed Calum his plate of toast and sat there happily, watching them all eat with his chest slightly puffed, feeling like a proud parent. From the way Calum kept glancing at sleepy Michael and subdued Ashton, he was likely thinking the same. Michael and Ashton bounced off each other like comets and sea waves and it was entrancing to watch.

Easily, Michael could rile Ashton up, could push and nudge and hint until Ashton was acting like a hyperactive three year old and being a little shit. Just as easily (and without ever meaning to) whenever Michael was sleepy or quiet or in one of his dream days, Ashton seemed to subdue himself, seemed to mold himself and his behavior to Michael's. Like now. Ashton had been loud and energetic until Michael came down, and now he was sitting quietly, eating with his left hand so he didn't jostle Michael around and sitting stock still for the blue haired boy.

Of course, Ashton had the vice versa effect on Michael, too. It was all too easy for Ashton to grab a handful of blue and yank and then streak away cackling with Michael hot on his heels, hounding for blood and it was just as easy for Ashton to be quiet or tired or get lost in his thoughts and Michael would snuggle up to him, go quiet too or try to coax Ashton into being loud again.

Really, they all had that effect on each other. Calum always carried around a pack of Skittles because it was like dog treats with Michael. Luke started wearing Lynx Africa after Ashton complained his other cologne was nasty nasty nasty and Michael had taken to being the cook of the house because the other boys were shit bar toast, and Ashton was always there to cheer them all up. They all bounced off each other, and it was what made them family. 

Eventually, Michael squints up at the clock on the wall and his pierced eyebrow shoots up to kiss his hairline at an impressive speed. "Ten am" is all he says and the boys react like it's a hurricane. Calum charges upstairs to get dressed, Luke whisks away their plates and crusts and Ashton (carefully) rips away from Michael to look for his drum sticks and get his shoes on. Michael just sits there smugly, because unlike those heathens, he's  _always ready._

The doorbell rings and Michael pads for the door as the other three boys come exploding back into the living room, Ashton with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as he tries to tug his left Supra on and Calum and Luke frantically kissing as they shrug on their jackets. Michael shook his head and wrenched the door open, giving Jonah, their driver, a cheery wave. Jonah gave him a dazzling grin back and stepped aside, gesturing to the van. "G'day, lads. Up and at 'em already?" he asked, and Jonah was one of those Aussie lads with an accent thicker than honey. 

"Cake are too gay to function and Ashton's using my toothbrush" Michael said by way of response and Jonah's delighted, amused laugh filled the air over Ashton's cry of disgust and Michael shook his head with a fond smile, headed for the van to bagsie the seat by the window for once as the chaos behind him slowly organised with Jonah's help. Soon enough, Michael is getting pressed into the door besides him by Ashton and Luke and Calum are setting into their seats. "Keys?" Luke asks, and Calum pats his pocket. "Wallets?" Calum response, and they both pat their thighs to indicate they're in their back pockets.

"Guitar picks?" Luke questions, and Calum nods, leans forwards to check with Michael too, who by answer raises his head a little as he carried on staring out of the window. "I feel like we're forgetting something..." Luke murmured, and Calum sat bolt upright. "I.D passes?" he asked, and Luke cursed softly, yanked open his door and raced back to the house and Ashton fake gagged besides the two boys at how sickeningly domestic and parental Cake already were.

Luke was back soon enough with his pass dangling from his hands on it's Nirvana chord and he snuggled up to Calum's side in the van. After confirming Jonah's amused "Ready?" the van rolled off down the street and they were on their way to the studio arena for band practice ready for the One Direction 'On The Road Again' Tour. Being the boys' supporting band was amazing, and 5SOS was happily do it for the rest of their lives. After a moment there was a soft 'thunk' and three out of four boys leant forwards.

Michael's head was lolling against the window and he was fast asleep, tongue sticking out a little and Luke shook his head, amazed. "Remarkable" he murmured and Calum huffed in amused agreement, watched as Ashton carefully cradled Michael's head, nudged the boy so Michael was laying against him and wouldn't bang his head again and Cake shared a knowing look before they snuggled up together, Calum playing with Luke's long, slender fingers as they conversed about anything and everything, voices quiet. 

It doesn't take long to get to the Allburns Arena, and when they do there's no hurry. There never really is. The team just lets the lads get on with it. They have the same approach with One Direction. They all know what they're doing. And bossing them about has the reverse effect you'd hope for so it was easier to just show them what they needed to learn, and let them do it. 

Michael was lightly shook awake and groggily opened his eyes to find his hair back to his lashes and Calum blinking at him owlishly, holding out a cup of coffee in a take away cup like an offering and Michael smiled sleepily, kissed his cheek as he slithered out of the empty van like some sort of alien thing and took the coffee, cradling and sipping the liquid as he followed Calum towards the dressing rooms. Once there, Calum and Ashton were plopped into seats and Ariana Loveway, their hair stylist, began to brush out Calum's messy wave of a quiff. 

It was just practice today, deciding what hairstyles they wanted for the Tour, what would be easiest and look the best. Michael's hair never changed, but Ariana liked to try anyway. While Ariana worked at the two boys in the chairs, Michael and Luke snuggled up on the couch. As Michael was the bands frontman, he began to discuss with Luke the best ways to engage the fans with the performance, the best order to play the songs, what to open with and what to finish with and it wasn't long until Ariana was tapping them both on the shoulder.

"See you in five, baby" Calum grinned, leaning over the back of the couch with newly sleek, ebony waves across his forehead to kiss Luke slowly and sweetly. Ashton, not to be outdone, grabbed Michael by the hair and yanked his head back, planting a sloppy, smacking kiss to his cheek and exclaiming loudly "Try not to miss me too much, sweetcheeks!" before he darted out of the room cackling. Luke shook his head fondly, leant up to kiss Calum again and hummed with a nod. "See you in ten babe" he responded, pushing himself off the couch and plopping into one of the seats.

Michael sat in the one next to him and while Ariana went off to try and find the brush she liked to use on Luke's quiff, he turned to Luke almost shyly and Luke faced him, patiently expectant. "How...how did you know you liked Calum as more than a best friend?" he asked after a moment, and Luke took it as a good sign that Michael could still look him in the eyes. He thought for a moment, brought himself back to the days when he and Calum holding hands was a sign of closeness and comfort not romantic love. Took a breath.

"It was...slow. I barely even noticed it myself. But I began to realize little things about him. Like just how much I knew about him, or that I was totally fine seeing him naked, totally fine helping him with things like his belt or his mic and stuff. And I mean, I'm fine doing all that with all of you, don't get me wrong. It's just with him I was more...I don't know. Maybe I kind of looked forwards to it?" It came out questioning but Michael nodded anyway. Luke noticed he was chewing his tongue, something Michael did when in distress but Michael wasn't seeking comfort nor showing signs of needing it so Luke let it be. Carried on.

"I guess I just slowly started thinking about him more and more. Like, I started thinking about all the things I liked about him. I started feeling different -in a good way- whenever he wanted to cuddle. And I realized I was thinking about Calum the way I used to think about Aleisha. Only...I realized I loved Calum more than I'd ever loved her. Don't get me wrong, I did love her, and I do like girls. I just realized that Calum made me happy in the same way Aleisha had" he finished, and Michael nodded slowly.

"Thanks for telling me that" the older boy responded softly, but before Luke could question his motives Ariana was flourishing back into the room brandishing a green brush and four sparkly pink clips like weapons and Luke shrank in his seat jokingly, which earnt him a whack on the nose with the brush like a misbehaving dog, but Ariana bee-lined for Michael first anyway. Conversation flowed after that, from Ariana chastising Michael again over his love for hair dye and then snipping a few too-long strands from Luke's fringe to Michael suggesting they draw out the twang at the start of She Looks So Perfect, waver it a little then launch into the first chord. But all the while, Michael was...well. He guessed you could say he was having a sexuality crisis.

When the boys were done they headed through the winding halls to the stage, collecting their mics and earphones and hooking each other up before they stepped out onto stage, met with Calum and Ashton. Ashton was already on the drums, playing the chorus to Social Casualty and Calum was tuning his bass with a focused expression, mouthing the lyrics in time to Ashton's drumming. Ashton noticed them first, waving erratically at them and both lads waved back. Once they were suitably settled, the dead mic hooked up between them and all their black boxes at the ready so they could switch between who spoke to who on the dead mic, the band was ready.

"Okay, so the first show is in Texas. I was thinking we start with Heartbreak Girl this time, save She Looks So Perfect for the middle of the performance, so we open up with the chords like 'dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun' and all that, and then we go through it and Ashton you do your like, stick throwing thing halfway through and me and Calum will drag out the end chord and we go 'heartbreak giirrrlll and we all throw our hands up in air and go 'What's uupp, Texas!' and then we go into Don't Stop with the bass and 'dun dun dun-yeah?" Michael asked, twisting where he stood to look at the others, who nodded, used to Michael half-finished sentences and seemingly jumbled instructions. 

Yet everything he said made perfect sense and he nodded, waited for Luke to stop fiddling with his earphone as he checked his guitar, wavered a C chord and then tapped his mic once so the noise vibrated around the room and in the ear pieces of the others and they tapped back, showing they were ready. The first five minutes went by in a stop-start manner, the boys playing their own chords and sections randomly to test themselves with Michael guiding them and adding in ideas or tips here and there.

Then Luke strayed too close to Calum and they ended up kissing, guitars trapped between them until Luke went to playfully grind against Calum only something backfired on their mics and a piercing, high-pitched sound made them all jump and cringe and then Ashton dropped one of his drumsticks down the back of the stage and that was when Michael decided to call an early pause. While security dismantled a small section of the stage to get Ashton's drumsticks back, Calum and Luke went to get a drink of water, which left Ashton and Michael sitting on the front end of the stage, legs dangling.

Michael had his electric in his lap and was idly twanging the chorus chords to Check Yes Juliet, switching now and then between Don't Stop, and Teenage Dirtbag. Ashton was sitting quietly, watching him and just when Ashton opened his mouth to start talking there was a squeal like an electrocuted pig and a shout and Luke came shooting out from one of the entry tunnels, covered in red paint and toilet paper and waving his arms, howling and cackling with laughter as he wound between the seats and walkways. Two of security were chasing him, undoubtedly trying to round him up to be cleaned and plopped back on stage. 

Ashton face-palmed besides Michael and Michael was stunned, hand slipping so an ugly twang was ripped from the strings and he nearly dropped his guitar. "You'll never take me alive, fuck trucks!" Luke howled, still cackling with laughter as he vaulted over a line of chairs and ran back through one of the entry tunnels, leaving a strip of toilet paper and splatters of paint in his wake. Ashton gave a delighted giggle, leaping off the stage and racing after him behind the security. Michael shook his head, setting his guitar aside with a grin. They were worse than One Direction. 

Well. He lied. According to every place they went to, nobody was worse than One Direction by apparently 5SOS came alarmingly close. 

Calum came skidding around the side of the stage a few moments later, nearly taking out Ashton's drum kit. He was splattered with paint, his hair was sticking up all over the place and he was wild eyed and panting. Michael obligatory pointed towards the tunnel the others had vanished into and Calum gave him a thumbs-up before promptly running  _the other way._ "Wise man" Michael mused, getting to his feet with a hum and going in search of his water bottle. He could still hear the odd crash or bang, the occasional "Lucas!" or "Fuck!" or "I think they went this way!" and the occasional cackle of mad laughter. 

Michael knows what he needs.

_Nutella._

It's British and it's a gift from the Gods and he'd literally give up being in 5SOS for Nutella whenever and how much ever he wanted. (Maybe not really but that's how good it is).

Glancing back to check his baby is in no immediate danger, Michael hopped down from the stage, passed the partly dismantled section and leant into it, set Ashton's guitar stick on his stool and carried on walking, winding through the cold, mostly blank halls and corridors towards the little canteen hall. When he gets there, the others have apparently gotten there first. A bag of flour has exploded and the cleaners are instantly on red alert when the door opens, but they relax when it's a calm, blue head that pops around the door.

They all know what he's there for, and one of them -Linda, her nametag says- totters off, reaches into one of the cupboards and tosses him the little jar of Nutella then tosses him a spoon, winks at him and smiles as he practically purrs and dribbles and then Michael is gone, happily tottering back to the stage. Somewhere along the hall across from Michael there's an ungodly, unholy shrieking sound and a crash and he winces. God, they're going to be in so much shit for this, he knows.

Well, the others are. He's the sensible one here. 

(Just about).

It's silent when he reaches the stage again. Everything seems peaceful and for now Michael assumes that Luke has been caught. Only now it's eerily silent. And Michael feels like he's in a horror movie. Halfway across the stage something to his left clinks and he froze, halfway through peeling the foil cover off the top of the Nutella and turned his head slowly, squinting into the semi-darkness. Nothing happened for a few seconds after that but then Luke suddenly exploded from the stage, barging past him.

The collision shunted Michael to the side and his Nutella went flying, smashing into a thick, gloopy, sharp mess on the floor and Luke made a noise of horror from where he stood all the way over the other end of the stage, still covered in toilet paper and paint. Michael turned to Luke with all the fury and murderous intent of Smaug, Thor and something very dark and evil rolled into one and Luke squeaked.

Only before Michael could even take a step he was suddenly just....gone.

Well, that's not entirely accurate. It goes something like this:

Michael turns towards him fully intent to rip him limb from limb and play in the blood when Ashton came exploding from the left, taking Michael down sideways like a fucking bulldozer so hard they both crashed  _through_ the back section of the stage in a serious of painful sounding smashes, bangs and shouts.

**~**

It's silent in the car. 

Dead silent. Jonah hasn't even put the radio on, and Calum's headphones are abandoned in the little pocket on the back of the seats in front of them. Luke and Calum are damp and wearing baggy, old clothes they were forced to change into and their expressions are sullen but their eyes are still sparkling. Michael is sitting with his body turned to the window and his expression so furious and murderous that Jonah is slowing down over bumps lest the motion tick Michael into killing them all. Michael's hair is a mess and he's covered in dust. His lower lip is split and he's got a left black eye and his body is littered with bruises and scrapes and besides him Ashton is holding an ice pack to his shoulder so Michael doesn't have to hold it, while also holding an ice pack to his own knee.

He's covered in dust too, his expression is fearful and sullen and there's a cut on his cheek shaped sort of like a stretched out S.

The van slows, stops at the gas station.

Jonah gets out, Michael gets out. Ashton hesitates, gets out too. Michael is storming off but the effect is ruined by his limp and Ashton is walking weirdly because he's trying not to bend his right knee.

"Well. I went out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now" Calum mutters after a moment, and Luke turned to him, blinked away a drip from his hair that landed in his lashes and frowned, gave up trying to think of something to say and leant forwards, kissed Calum slowly. "They'll be okay. Mikey will get some Nutella, Ashton will buy him a guitar pick and we can have kinky, slow sex in the studio room" Luke smiled sweetly, and Calum leant into him with a soft, slow sigh. 

It wasn't always like this. Usually band practice went fine with the worst being a snapping guitar string or Ashton dropping one of his sticks.

This was kind of a first for them to this extent, really.

"I love you, Luke" Calum hummed after a moment, threading their fingers together and Luke smiled, let his head rest on Calum's. "I love you too, Cal" he responded quietly, the two of them staying like that, cuddled up in the back of the car together, exchanging quiet pet names and sweet words. It's sickeningly sweet and loving, and it's everything the both boys are made for.

In the gas station store, Michael is just reaching for the jar of Nutella when Jonah sweeps down the isle, takes him by the shoulder and steers him away. Michael whines, trying to pull away but Jonah is fatherly and firm and that's that. They pass Ashton, who instantly backs away from Michael guiltily, but he has an arm full of purchases so Jonah just tells him to be quick and then Michael is being helped back into the car and he looks so sad, so downcast and furious and upset that Calum can't resist, leans over to kiss his cheek gently, begins to stroke Michael's hair just the way the boy likes, twisting his fingers through the fluffy locks, tugging them as he runs his fingers through and it takes a few moments but Michael relaxes, leans back in his seat and closes his eyes.

Ashton gets in a little while later, a little bag stuffed in his hoodie pocket and the drive back is as silent as before, but somehow a little more relaxed. They can never stay mad at each other for long. Never could after Luke and Michael got over their unwarranted hatred for each other. This is proven when Ashton picks up the ice pack not resting on his knee and Michael shifts a little, leans against the door again so Ashton can hold it against his shoulder and Ashton knows he's halfway to being forgiven because if Michael was really pissed at him, he wouldn't even sit next to him, let alone let Ashton touch him.

And...it makes Ashton's heart melt. He's known for a while now that he at least  _knows_ he likes boys not girls. I mean sure, girls are brilliant. They're sweet and curvy and they have long hair you can play with and braid. And they wear skirts and they're boobs are soft and bouncy and squishy, god, girls in  _make up_ and girls without it.

In general, girls are just amazing.

They're just not what Ashton wants to fall asleep with and kiss awake in the mornings. He's had girlfriends, sure. Grew to love them like sisters instead of lovers and let them go because he knew it wasn't fair to either of them if he let them live out a lie. Watching Calum and Luke...it had just confirmed his realization. Watching them hold hands, watching them kiss, walking downstairs on a Sunday morning to find them curled up under the blankets on the sofa. Even those awkward times when he had to lay in his bunk with his music as loud as he could get it without Cake hearing it as they fuck and knowing he's still awake and just trying to drown them out. 

What completed it was Michael. Michael wit his deep voice and ever changing hair and his thick, puffy red lips that always look kiss-bitten and eyes that put emeralds and fan fictions to shame and he just...he just knew. He'd spoken to Calum, spoken to Luke, subtly and shyly over months and he just.... _wanted Michael._

Jonah pulls the van up outside their house, opens the door on Michael's side while Luke opens the door on his side and the four of them pile out, Michael and Ashton a little slower than the other two boys. It's near dark outside now, the sky around them a dark blue with shadowed clouds pulling in form the West, bringing a chill breeze with them and Michael hangs back with his limp, walks behind Luke and Calum who are hand in hand, heads bent together, whispering sweet nothings.

The boys settle into their nightly routines. Michael always gets the bathroom first because he takes the longest and it gives the others time to unwind and check the locks and get drinks and the like.

Luke and Calum share a room now, and they enter it in a loved up silence, both boys stripping the other slowly, fingertips sliding over expanses of smooth, tanned skin and Luke ducked his head, kissed Calum slowly and sweetly and stared lovingly into near pitch black eyes, their breathing soft and shallow in the silence around them.They're both shirtless now, just touching and staring, Calum lowering his eyes to watch Luke's chest as he breathes, trails his hands down Luke's arms and then up his torso and Luke fists his hands gently in Calum's hair, kisses his temple then reluctantly backs away so they can strip into boxers to sleep.

No matter how dark an Australian night gets, having a warm body next to yours makes sleeping in clothes unbearable, if not for the heat then the fact that skin on skin is the best way to sleep with the one you love. 

Calum leaves the room as Luke is brushing out his hair and steps into the bathroom to see Michael sitting on the edge of the bath and Ashton leaning against the wall. They're doing that freaky thing where they seem to be having a silent conversation, reading each others minds but it looks so lustful, so loved up that Calum can't resist, bites his lip and tips his head up before he reaches forwards.

Michael seems to notice first, even though it's too late because Calum is already pushing their heads together but he turns his head to the side so instead of a crushing mouth-to-mouth it's cheek against cheek and it's more like a hug as Calum huffs "Now kiss" from behind them, cackles as they scramble away from each other and hastily and sulkingly back out of the bathroom.

It's dark now and the house is silent, all four boys clean and in bed fast asleep. Only two of them aren't. Michael is restless, craving Nutella, craving comfort and too tired to sleep and has Insomniac's Lullaby playing in ears to help him relax when the bed dips besides him and he opens his eyes to semi darkness, Ashton's face half lit in the light coming from the street lamp outside Michael's window. He goes to open his mouth but Ashton shakes his head and while Ed Sheeran's pre-big-fame voice soothes softly in his ears Ashton holds up a jar of Nutella.

**~**

A disgruntled Kiwi's head rises from the pile of blankets he was nestled under, and Luke presses a finger to his lips to shush him, taps his ears and points to the wall besides them. Bleary and still practically asleep, squinty eyed and with his hair all over the place Calum shuffled across the bed on his stomach, lay his head against the wall and kept his eyes locked on Luke's smug, proud grin.

From the room besides theirs, Michael's room, there was a soft moan, the slick sounds of kissing and something else and Ashton's soft "I got you, Mikey" and Michael's answering soft, needy sound and Calum could tell it was slow and sweet, almost unbearingly gentle and he felt his heart swell in his chest, felt like a damn father as he lay there. And it should be weird, laying in bed with your boyfriend grinning and listening to your two best friends having sex in the room next door but it wasn't weird.

It was just love. 

Michael later admitted he'd been bisexual for a while. Or at least sort of knew he was. It was after drunk gay kisses at a club, but mostly after watching Calum and Luke, watching what they had and how perfectly their bodies were able to meld perfectly together line for line. Ashton admitted he'd been gay for a long time, just never really admitted it aloud. Luke and Calum baked them a giant 'Congrats on the gay sex' cake and sat watching proudly as Mashton dithered over what part of the cake was appropriate to eat. Calum finally got to mash their heads together and say 'Now kiss' with the satisfaction of them actually kissing. Michael and Ashton never complain about Luke and Calum having loud, outrageous sex anymore. They retaliate with even louder, even more outrageous sex. 

 


	11. Headlights, Hold Tight, Turn Your Sounds Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin]
> 
> This....thing with Ashton isn't new. The thing they're trying tonight is, though. Walking in on 'Larry Stylinson' backstage is the final straw and Mikey knows what he wants.  
> It's just a question of going through with it. 
> 
> {{Prompt: Hello_everyone  
> Would you mind doing a Michael/Ashton thing where they're having sex and Michael's bottoming, And he changes his mind, doesn't want to have sex at that moment, Or it's his first time bottoming and it hurts, And Ash Hugs and comforts him, and they cuddle. I don't really care how you run with this. Because you're such an awesome writer.}}
> 
> (Bottom!Michael - Top!Ashton - Kissing - Cuddles - Comfort - Virgin!Michael - Mashton - Established relationship - Luke is all knowing and annoying - Michael thinks so - Mikey's eyebrow piercing - Fluff - Mentioned Larry Stylinson - Mentioned Top!Louis - Mentioned Bottom!Harry - Retracted consent - Michael changes his mind -Grinding - Ashton's a sappy sweetheart - Liam's a cuddly giant puppy - Anal sex - Unfinished sex - Tiny bit of blood - Pain)

 

Michael's made his decision, he realizes, as he fled from the One Direction tour bus, milky cheeks now poppy red and embarrassment burning through his veins like fire. Yes, he knows what he wants. And how did he realize what he wants, you ask?

He'd just walked in on Louis Tomlinson fucking Harry Styles over the recording table in the music room of the bus, Harry gagged by one of Louis' bandannas, teeth clamped down and head held up by Louis' hand in his hair, Louis' other hand pinning Harry's arms behind his back, the oldest boy fucking the youngest so hard Harry was sliding on the wood and plastic surface.

And now, he wanted it. Wanted that. Wanted Ashton to hold him down and fuck him and  _jesus_ that was a scary thought.

You see, Michael had only come to terms with being gay a few months ago, after a drunk hook-up at a club and then Ashton walking around naked he'd finally stopped lying to himself, finally let himself notice that when Ashton's eyes lingered on him they burned, let himself notice that when Ashton touched him it ranged from a firm, possessive hold to a feather-light grounding touch.

It was Ashton who'd held his hand, coddled him and bought him ice cream once he'd gotten his eyebrow pierced and his tattoo done, and then it was Ashton who'd dragged him into the alley behind the tattoo and piercing parlor, shoved Michael onto his knees and gripped his hair as he fucked his throat, then stole his breath away with kisses as he jacked Michael off into a teary, gasping, slick completion. 

They've never done more than handjobs, blowjobs and Ashton rimming Michael until he'd cum crying. They'd never had the time, never had the privacy before, only now they had a few days break. It was the reason he'd walked in on Larry anyway. Liam had caught up with him in the hotel's lobby, asked him to hunt around for the two missing lads because their bags where still by the desk and they were nowhere to be found and that was how Michael had finally realized exactly what he wanted.

He was a bottom, and he wanted Ashton to fuck him until he couldn't feel his legs. And that made him burn hot while also going white, because hell. What a scary thought. Like...what if Ashton went to fuck him and he wasn't like, clean or something? Or what if he bled or if something went wrong or if it was all just nasty and gross and Ashton never wanted to touch him again or it was bad for them  _both?_

Way to be dramatic, Clifford, he chastised himself. He'd seen gay porn. He'd now seen it live. It couldn't be that bad. 

All the same, the first thing he was going to do when he got back to his and Ashton's room was- _"Fuck!"_

Wait, no. Well, yeah, but!

Michael backed away, scrubbing gently at his nose before he looked up at the owner of the brick-wall-like chest he'd just rammed into. Liam was looking at him with an expression akin to a mix of startled earwig and concerned father and it was just....comforting, in an odd, amusing way. "You alright there, Mikey?" Liam asked, reaching up with one hand to gently brush aside Michael's and lightly touch the tip of his nose, checking to make sure he was okay like a good Daddy Direction. Michael found himself sidling closer to the older man, lost in hot chocolate eyes and his low, soothing voice.

"Yeah. Mildly surprised. Apologetically not in the company of Larry Stylinson" he responded, shaking himself from his multitude of muddled thoughts and giving Liam a beaming smile, at which Liam responded with an amused yet mildly apologetic one of his own.

"Well. We do kinda have a saying that you're like, officially a Directioner with us when you walk in on them" Liam huffed, still tenderly petting at Michael's nose until he seemed to realize what he was doing, and smiled as he let his hand drop. 

"Well. Paul already took their bags up and their keys are behind the desk. I'll let you get off to bleach your eyes" Liam's own eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, that cheeky four-year-old grin that nobody could resist smiling back at and then Liam was stepping aside, carrying on his trek towards the side doors, no doubt sneaking out to go exploring. Michael found himself watching the walking ball of comforting joy until Liam had gone from view and then once again he mentally shook himself, before skipping his own way up the steps.

He preferred the stairs to the elevators. It kept him in shape, and it meant he didn't end up smushed between loads of people in a suffocating box with (seemingly) limited oxygen. It also meant if there was a hot guy (Ashton) walking ahead of him he could shamelessly stare at his ass. That thought in mind, Michael slipped a hand into his back pocket, traced the room key gently with a fingertip as he headed down the empty, sectioned off, guarded hall. He began to sing quietly as he hunted for 228, huffing his fairy floss hair from his eyes every now and then.

" _Empty beds, clouded heads we're not oh-kay-ay-ay. Gotta go, gotta run it's not much fun. But baby change your mind, change your lies and we'll get on fine_ " he cut himself off with a soft sound as he found his room and pushed his way into it even as he was unlocking the door, resulting in a mildly winding bounce off the varnished wood before he moved with the door, all but gliding into the room and immediately tripping over the mass destruction left behind by Hurricane Irwin.

Speaking of, the culprit himself was laying out on  _the bed by the window,_ and Michael bristled because everyone, even the 1D boys by now knew Michael couldn't sleep unless he had the window bed, much like Harry and Zayn. Who had worked out that by sharing a bed they didn't have to fight tooth and microphone for the bed with the view. (How they didn't work that out sooner was beyond both boybands). Yet, there Ashton was, sprawled out with his headphones on, eyes closed and his melodic Aussie accent filling the room.

Michael must have arrived either before he stuck his headphones on, or when one of Ash's songs had finished because the boy hadn't been singing before. But now he was, and Michael found himself standing back, drinking in the sight of his boyfriend with famished eyes and heating blood. Because Ashton looked divine when he sang, and when he sang like this, heartfelt and easy, relaxed and sleepy-looking it just made Michael want to kiss him until lack of oxygen became a serious health issue for them both. 

"Lace up your shoes, a-o-a-o oh here's how we do. Run baby run, don't ever look back- _oh"_

Michael couldn't help himself. He'd moved forwards, dropped down so he was straddling Ashton, hands resting on the soft covers above his shoulders and Ashton reached up to take off his headphones but Michael shook his head, mouthed 'keep singing' and Ashton did without hesitation, kept his eyes open as he started singing again, hands coming up to rest on Michael's hips, thumb rubbing at the shallow of Michael's hip bones as he sang to him now, eyes sparkling, expression soft and Michael was awed, watched Ash's lips form the words.

It only made him want him more. 

When the song -Check Yes Juliet- timed out Ashton smacked for his phone, paused it before another song could come on and shook his head so his headphones slipped away, looked back up with a doting smile and warm eyes at his boyfriend, dug his thumbs in just a little and it was all the encouragement Michael needed, leaning down to kiss Ashton, thick, firm lips against soft, bitten ones as Michael kissed him, skin sliding together like silk on velvet and it was unhurried, sweet and slow because Michael just wanted to  _feel_ but before he could sort of initiate sex, Ashton was pulling back, cupping his cheeks and smoothing his thumb over the pronounced line of delicate bones, and Michael was melting.

"Took you long enough to get your sweet ass up here" Ashton murmured, and if Michael wasn't so loved up and needy he'd kick Ashton's ass into the next century. All it was he just rolled his eyes and moved his hands down, pinched Ashton over the ribs where it makes him squeal and wriggle and leant down, laying his head on Ashton's chest. It'd hard not to lose yourself around Ashton, hard not to get sucked into a white void where everything is just...calm. Peaceful, but sparking at the same time. Ashton's like that. He makes no sense but he's the clearest thing in the world.

"Yeah, well. I needed to bleach my eyeballs. Louis really, _really_ likes Harry" he mumbled, and Ashton's laugh was vibrations like guitar strings against his cheek. "Awh. Poor Mikey. We'll just have to get them back one day" he responded, and Michael felt his heart hitch. Ashton didn't seem to notice, busy running his fingers through Michael's flossy hair, still humming C.Y.J under his breath. They lay like that for awhile, Michael letting the lull of being risen and lowered by Ashton's breathing soothe him into sightless peacefulness and Ashton letting Michael's weight ground him, give him something to focus on. _  
_

"Hey. Wanna have some fun?" Ashton asked a moment later and Michael nearly had a heart attack, until Ashton carried on and then relief and disappointment beat him down at the same time. "Niall slipped me a bottle of Zayn's mix as we were sorting out rooms" Ashton grinned, and Michael didn't know how to react. You see, 'Zayn's mix' was enough to give even an Irish man the most drunken experience of his life. It smelt like diesel, tasted like copper and medicine and was potent enough that two shots of the stuff had you swinging around on the kitchen table in a hula skirt and plastic-cup-titties, singing along to Sexy Back. 

Nobody knew what was in it. Michael sometimes doubted even Zayn knew, and also sometimes wondered if he even wanted to know, because with how strong the stuff was, some serious shit had to be thrown in there. Though Zayn assured it was all safe, and the stuff was so awesome the lads were  _eager_ for it whenever Zayn had the time to mix it. 

Realizing that Ashton was waiting patiently for an answer, Michael nodded and simply let himself flop-slide to the right, slithering onto the rumpled covers so that Ashton could move and he barely caught his boyfriends mutter of "slug boy" as Ashton hauled ass off the bed, rummaging through the catastrophe on the floor until he surface triumphant with the cute little moustache flask thing that Ashton remembered seeing Niall with once or twice. Ashton came prancing back over onto the bed, resuming his previous position only a little more upright, sort of slouching against the headboard and stack of pillows now. 

It was then Michael finally payed attention to the bombardment of the scent of Ashton's Lynx Apollo and he finally realized why Ashton was in his bed and why Ashton had used so much cologne.

"Are you....trying to scent me?" he voiced after a moment, and Ashton just gave him a beaming, cheeky grin before he spreads his legs, pats the space between them and Michael knows the drill, rolls to his knees and shuffles to kneel between Ashton's thighs, turns around and sits down, aligns their legs and snuggles back into Ashton's chest, links their fingers when Ashton reaches to wrap his arm around his waist. Ashton takes a swig of the stuff first, nose scrunching, coughing after his first taste and the metallic scent is already in Michael's nose.

Michael goes next, Ashton reaching forwards with the flask and holding it to his mouth, kissing his cheek when Michael tips his head back and sips, a teensie little taste. Ashton picked up his phone, stuck on Coldplay and they sat like stoned hipsters, sipping alcohol, cuddling and listening to music until Ashton set down the flask. Neither of them were heavily tipsy, having carefully regulated their sips but they both have a hot burn in their chests, a hotter burn on their tongues and a fine gloss over their eyes. 

Michael wasn't kidding when he said it was potent.

By now, with the heat in his stomach and Ashton's palm on his abs Michael felt like he had the courage to finally get what he wanted to he twisted in Ashton's grip, caught his lower lip gently with his teeth then leant up more, sucked on the smooth skin with intent as he twisted around fully now, straddled Ashton's lap again and teasingly inched his hips down, brought his hands up to Ashton's cheeks.

It was peculiar, the mix of mint and metal and Ashton but Michael wouldn't trade it for the world, chased the taste eagerly as he licked into Ashton's mouth, their tongues slick and smooth together as Michael lapped at him lightly, pulled back a second to inhale quickly and dove back in, kissed him with renewed force as Ashton settled one hand on Michael's hip and the other on his shoulder. 

Slowly but surely their kiss is getting more heated, turning sloppy and slick and full of lust and hunger, Ashton's grip tight enough to bruise on his hip, their bodies pressed together firmly, all warmth and solidness as Michael sped things up, ground down against Ashton with a steady roll of his hips that pushed his ass out and rolled it forwards again and Ashton went rigid, moaned " _Mikey_ " against Michael's mouth and Michael groaned, nipped at Ashton's lower lip needily, rolled his hips again, sitting deep in Ashton's lap and Ashton whined, kissed at him almost slackly as his hands fell down, gripping Michael's ass and through how amazing it felt as Ashton pushed him down again while grinding up against him Michael marvelled in how Ashton just seemed to...know.

They'd never discussed it. Never talked about when they did decide to have sex who would top and who would bottom. Michael figured maybe like himself, Ashton didn't mind. Would like it either way. But right now Ashton seemed to either know, or was just asserting himself that Michael was the bitch tonight and it made Michael shiver, let him feel Ashton grin against his mouth.

Fuck Luke.

Or more correctly fuck Luke and his horror stories about sex between two guys going horribly, horribly wrong. Also, fuck Luke for that two hour conversation where Michael had pretended to be asleep and Luke had gone into great detail about how to correctly have anal. It had been terrible and arousing and weird and gross and what pissed Michael off more than Luke's smugness was that Luke had done all that research  _just to unsettle and one-up Michael_. 

Well hardy fucking  _backfire_ because Michael was about to have the best sex of his life.

He was still kissing Ashton, still eagerly grinding against him like a dog in heat, practically panting for it as he sucked on Ashton's tongue, dragged his nails down Ashton's back as Ashton rolled against the smooth curve of his ass and he was now lost in thought. Even as he pushed Ashton further down against the bed, gripping him tight and running his tongue down the center of Ashton's as he relished in the rough slide of their cocks together, frictioned by the scrape of denim on denim he was thinking. Still plagued by the thoughts from earlier.

But they all vanished from his head when Ashton, still kissing him, reached around, undid his belt slowly and pulled it out of the loops, tossed it aside and carried on, unbuttoned then unzipped his jeans then kissed him deeply, like he was trying to steal Michael's breath as he slid his hand down, cupped the hot, firm bulge in Michael's boxers and Michael whined, bucked against his hand and Ashton moaned at how eager, how ready his baby was. His Mikey. 

"Gonna take care of you, Mikey. I wanna make you feel so good" Ashton groaned, breathless against Michael's mouth, turning his head a little to the side, locking eyes with the orbs that could put a tropical rainforest to shame. Michael keened, caught between grinding back against Ashton's dick and rocking against his hand and he was so beautiful, hair wild, eyes wide and dark with lust, cheeks flushed and his lips glossy with saliva, thick and swollen and red and smooth and Ashton shivered in knowing it was him who'd bitten them that colour, that he was the reason Michael was starved of oxygen. 

Pushing Michael's jeans around his thighs, Ashton leant down, nipped at his collar bones as he reached for the little travel baggie on the bedside table, pulled out the lube and Michael gave a breathless snort of laughter, gave Ashton a look and Ashton could only shrug cheekily and wink in response.

A few minutes later and they're both naked, Michael on his hands and knees, head ducked and every ridge of his spine showing like beautiful crests, so pretty, his skin milky and smooth and perfect, muscles trembling as Ashton worked two fingers inside him. Michael was mewling, fingers clenching the sheets and Ashton found himself lazily grinding against the bed. 

In truth, for Michael, it was as painful as it was pleasurable. Because Ashton had to focus on working him open, wanting to be so thorough, so gentle for Michael's first time he wasn't hitting Michael's sweet spot each time, the slight burn between his thighs was more prominent, more present than the times Ashton would side a fingertip over the bundle of nerves, make Michael cry out, spine bowing taught and sharp. But then Ashton seemed to notice what he was doing, began to rub the little smooth bundle relentlessly until Michael was grinding back on his sloppy, slick fingers, whimpering.

He looked so beautiful like this, mouth open and lips puffy, eyes screwed shut, spine curved and hair messy that Ashton couldn't resist, pulled his fingers out and left Michael gasping for breath as he grabbed the lube again, dribbled some onto his palm and ran his hand lightly up and down his cock a few times, enough to coat it without jacking off and then used a finger to scrape the excess off his hand, smear it around Michael's rim and Michael mewled again, sensitive and needy and Ashton lost it.

Hands going to Michael's hips, he could barely contain himself long enough to make sure Michael was balanced and to line himself up and then he was pushing in, shoving forwards like an over-eager dog. Michael cried out, whole body going tense, the sudden white-hot pain spreading from halfway down his spine right down to his thighs was agony no matter how full he felt, no matter how pleasing it was that he was filled up with  _Ashton_ and tears sprung to his eyes.

Ashton seemed to realize what he'd done, draped himself over Michael's back to kiss his cheek, voice soft and apologetic. "Shh, Mikey. I'm so sorry. I didn't meant to. Baby, it's okay" he soothed, kissing away the tear that slid down Michael's cheek. He rolled his hips just ever so slightly, barely even grinding snugly against the curve of Michael's ass in an attempt to make Michael feel better only Michael shuddered in the wrong kind of way and Ashton got the sensation of something slick against his hips and thigh, paused and reached down between them, brought his hand back up to find his fingertips slick with blood and cursed softly, leant forwards and kissed the corner of Michael's mouth. 

"I-" he couldn't think of the words to express how sorry he was, how guilty he felt but Michael turned his head to the side, kissed him slackly with a shaky smile and trusting, loving eyes even though his lower lip wobbled slightly and his eyes were shiny with tears. "Hey, it's okay. Just means my ass is that irresistible you couldn't wait, yeah?" he responded, voice thick and rough and Ashton wanted to marry him there and then.

As it was, he settled for kissing Michael, slow and sweet, reached up to run his fingers through Michael's hair, knew it made the boy weak at the knees and hoped it would all be enough to at least distract him from the pain as he eased out inch by inch, tried to soothe Michael as much as he could even though Michael still whimpered, sucked in a sharp breath, stayed tense and trembling. Feeling Michael's blood against his skin made Ashton feel sick and guilty and he kissed Michael again, grabbed a pair of boxers and hastened to the bathroom, gave himself the quickest wipe over ever, yanked on his boxers and came back to Michael with a warm, damp cloth and some Savlon.

Michael, bless him, was obediently (or out of pain) staying where he'd been left. His arms were trembling a little but he seemed to be a little less distressed. There wasn't as much blood as Ashton had originally thought but there was still a fair amount, smeared over his pretty, round ass cheeks and dribbling down his thighs and Ashton sucked in a breath, settled on his knees behind Michael. 

He cleaned Michael up as carefully as he could, using gentle dabs and even gentler sweeps of the cloth over canvas-perfect skin, watched Michael relax under his touch with soft eyes, kept his free hand always on Michael's skin, on his hip, his spine, anywhere he wasn't cleaning, hummed lowly in his throat to soothe him. Michael was calm now, lax and pliant under his touch and when Ashton went to throw away the cloth Michael tugged on his own boxers, lay down on his stomach gingerly, felt the bone-deep ache and the stinging burn and tried to relax as much as he could. 

Ashton came back after barely even thirty seconds away, sank carefully onto his back in bed next to Michael and held his arms out, expression guilty, sorrowful but hopeful. Michael smiled back up and him and that was all the permission and confirmation Ashton needed. He reached out, as slowly and gently as he could pulling Michael until the boy was draped over him. Neither of them were hard anymore nor did they feel any need to do anything sexual anymore. Even if they did, they both doubted they could anyway.

Michael ached like he'd been hit by a truck from the center of his spine to just above his knees and his ass burnt like Ashton had taken a light and petrol down there. Every movement made it worse and even when he was draped over Ashton, both of them warm and solid against each other the pain and aching didn't leave, but Ashton made it all better just being there, just caring about him so much. It wasn't a great first time. Wasn't even really a first time, but Michael wouldn't trade it for the world.

Because although there was pain and blood and little actual sex, it had shown how deeply Ashton cared for him. 

He gave a soft, long sigh as Ashton finished settling him down and wrapped his arms loosely around Ashton, felt his warm, smooth skin and lay his head on Ashton's chest as Ash himself draped the thinnest sheet over them both, tucked it up around Michael and then he was running one hand through Michael's soft, flossy hair while he draped the other ever so lightly around him, used his thumb to trace absent patterns feather-lightly over Michael's body, ducking his head to kiss Michael's hair.

The sigh Michael gave then was one of contentment and happiness as he snuggled down against Ashton, feeling him breathe, listening to his heart and feeling the warmth radiate off his boyfriend. He tangled their legs together slowly and carefully, felt Ashton's head loll against his own and smiled.

They stayed like that all night, cuddling and sleeping, wrapped up in each other.

(The pain and ache stayed for a while after. When it was time to leave the hotel Ashton had carried Micheal bridal style onto the bus with Zayn and Liam (who'd shared a room next to 'Mashton's' sniggering along behind them. None of the other boys had noticed anything until Michael went to get changed and had walked ram-rod straight and stiff, with a pronounced limp and then they'd all 'oo'ed and made fake kissy and moaning noises and overly loud 'Mikey!'s and 'Oh, Ash!'s along with crude words until Ashton had whelped for them to stop, caught between embarrassment and horror and Michael had flushed, done his best to stride away normally into the bunks hall.)

(They'd also tried again later when the WWA Tour finished, Ashton going the whole hog with a romantic dinner, candles and rose petals and everything. He'd opened Michael up so thoroughly he was sure if he tried he could fit his whole  _hand_ in and then he'd gone slow, aimed for depth rather than pace and Michael had cum mewling and gasping and incoherent and most importantly, injury free. Even more importantly they'd cuddled the whole night after, and then every day for the next week fucked in almost every place and position imaginable. They were actually almost as bad as Harry and Louis.)

 


	12. We Took A Chance, And Packed Our Bags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Calum Hood/Louis Tomlinson]
> 
> It was Harry who'd given them the idea. When the boys had said their goodbyes Harry had stopped them, shook his head and said 'I never say goodbye, because goodbye is permanent. I always say see you later, because that's exactly what I'll do'.  
> Now, Calum knows the end of the WWA Tour isn't a goodbye. It's just going to be a long wait until he can see Louis later. It's just trying to convince himself that.
> 
> {{Prompt: Mychaela  
> Hiiii I love your prompts !! !!
> 
> Could you please write a Calum Louis one, where the WWA tour is almost over and Calum is all like really sad that this will be the last time in awhile he'll see Louis and Louis comforts him, telling him it'll be okay and just cute fluff : - )
> 
> Thanks !! !!}}
> 
> (Fluff - Hurt/Comfort - Sad!Calum - Cuddles - Schmoop - Slightly sad - WWA Tour - Lalum - Big Brother!Louis - Comforting - Brief Harry Styles - Brief Michael Clifford - Brief Marry Stylifford - Calum!Centric - Kisses - Nose booping - Calum really likes Louis' eyes - Louis really likes Calum - Established relationship)
> 
> **Title inspired by Social Casualty by 5 Seconds of Summer.

Calum's not attached. Really, he's not. It's not like he's clingy and needy and goes pathetic when Louis isn't around.

Only he is and he does and he's screwed.

In four days time, the Where We Are Tour is coming to an explosive end at the X-Factor arena where the One Direction boys first got put together, and then 5 Seconds of Summer are flying home to Australia to work on their new Album and upcoming tour and One Direction are taking a much deserved month or two's rest after nearly two years on the road. Not only that, but when the next One Direction Tour starts up again, 5 Seconds of Summer  _still_ won't join them until pretty much three quarters of the way into the Tour, because they'll be busy with their own.

It's not like Calum's thought about it in that much depth, honestly. Except he has and each time he stands patiently, lets Louis hook up his mic, feels his gentle hands on his skin he's reminded this moment means they're closer to a time where they'll only have technology to see each other, and Calum feels like he's going back to the days when they first heard of One Direction and he spent all his time pining over Louis Tomlinson.

(Calum used to be a firm believer in Larry Stylinson, even though it sort of broke his heart at the same time. When they first met One Direction he'd been even more conflicted over the closeness between the two boys until four nights later Louis had dropped to his knees and blown Calum's world (and his dick) and then a lengthy conversation formed with basically revealed that yes, Harry and Louis were close as hell with matching tattoos and secret sign language signals, but despite that there was nothing between them but a strong, brotherly love. It had also revealed Harry was practically gagging for Michael Clifford's attention and two handjobs and an evil plan later there was another inter-band couple.)

He still pines for Louis, which is ridiculous. But the Tour life doesn't give you much time to cuddle with your boyfriend. Most of the time the boys only see each other at the airports, backstage, at pit-stops while they travel and then at the hotel if they stop at one. There's times where neither bands have met up for two days, too hurried to get to the next venue to be allowed to meet up or hang around or swap buses. It's scary but wonderful and saddening but amazing at the same time and Louis somehow  _always_ manages to find time for him.

Like now. Both bands just got back from a small PR performance for radio, a mini-concert around mid-day where the nine of them performed She Looks So Perfect, Midnight Memories, a mashup of Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me/Kiss You and then a cover of American Idiot before they'd been hauled back to the tour buses, stationed at a truck stop to refuel, sort out the collapse of a stack of amps and re-stock on food. Calum feels helpless, the tour bus emptied of the other boys who'd jumped at the chance to get more American candy.

It feels even more...surreal? Unreal? Now that he's alone and he's reminded of just how far they've come. Looking around at the punk-ish red and black One Direction tour bus, all fancy leather and a huge circle couch and large bunks and he's reminded that this is his life now. Sure, the 1D bus is still about a million times better and bigger than the 5SOS one. But he's on  _One Direction's tour bus_ and he's spending his nights performing for millions of people who scream  _5 Seconds of Summer_. He's finally made it. He's made the dream and he's doing it with the three (eight) most important people in his life.

"It's strange, isn't it?".

The deep voice, soft with a British lilt and a slow pace startled Calum out of his trance and he turned around to find Harry Styles leaning against the doorway of the main room on the bus and once again he's reminded of just what his life is now, because that's  _Harry Styles_ standing in front of him. The words are accompanied by a sweet quirk of thick, cherry lips that made a single moon crater dimple pop and Calum can't do much more than nod, still caught up in his revelation.

He's in a famous band and he's  _dating Louis Tomlinson._

"It never quite ends, y'know?" Harry adds, jaded eyes scanning the room around him and Calum finds himself nodding, rubbing at his new tattoo absently. "Sometimes I look at the stupidest things. Like, I'll just stand there staring at a can of spaghetti letters and it'll occur to me that I have the money to buy every can of these in the UK or something, and it's weird but it's a good weird" Harry finishes, looking over at Calum with a soft expression. There's a huge ass hickey on his neck, large and black-purple and it must have taken Michael an age to get like that but Harry wears it proudly like a collar, just smiles dreamily when Lou Teasdale scolds him about it as she smacks a heavy load of cover-up on it and hairsprays it to make it stay.

Calum wants that. He wants what Harry and Michael have. He wants to walk around with Louis' teeth marks on his neck and tattoos that mean something to them both and he wants it all but he's too scared to admit it. Too scared to look at their gentle touches, the slow, almost lazy hook-ups that leave them both panting and smiling, sticky and sated and he wants to look at their shared glances and be able to say he loves Louis.

But he's too scared. Because things can turn in a second. It'd be all too easy to fuck up. All too easy for the paparazzi or the fans to witness something, or for something to go wrong and that's it. It could all be over. Calum thinks back to all the times in history he knows. Times where bands who used to be friends quickly turned into rivals. Times where famous gay people were oppressed and beaten down until they convinced themselves they were straight or quit their industry. Thinks back to the things One Direction had told them.

Things like how Modest! made them all keep in the closet. Made them 'hook up' with well known or random women. Forced decisions and fake girlfriends on them like chains and locks. Things like how when the Larry Stylinson stuff (thoroughly reveled in by the boys, who played up their bromance to the nines) got so heavy that Management started treating them like dogs, giving them  _permission_ to interact on stage and on tour, turning up at concerts to give them warning signals whenever it looked like the boys got too cosy. Taking over their Twitter accounts and bashing their own band members. 

And Calum's petrified because that could happen to him. That could happen to his band and he doesn't want that. Doesn't want a replay of 2013-14 where things got so bad that Louis smoked weed with Zayn and put the video online, where Harry basically lost what remained of his sweet, kitten-ish innocence and finally gave up trying to be happy all the time, trying to brighten up the world. When even happy-go-lucky Niall Horan started getting angry, lashing out at abusive paps at going through public with a stormy expression.

It's better now. They have each other. Louis is still saying 'fuck it' to every choice Modest! makes and Simon Cowell is still trying to fight his own company to get them to ease off on everyone but it's better. Modest! is so run ragged by the many bands they run that they've had to back away from One Direction for a while and the boys are relaxing again.

Calum realizes he's been silent for an age, staring sightlessly because Harry is grinning at him and there's a fairy-floss white-blonde head on his shoulder, Michael gazing at Calum in amusement but before Calum can defend himself Louis is shoving them both aside with a breeze of "Move bitches, get out ma' way!" and then he's prowling over to a still star-stuck Calum with a beaming grin. There's a mutter of "Rude" and then a deeper "We can be" before the slick sound of kissing and Louis whips around before Calum can grab for him, claps his hands loudly and tuts.

"Keep it PG or take it away, lads" Louis barked, and was answered by Michael grabbing Harry's crotch, making an overly-loud moan before the facade dropped and he and Styles fell out of the bus laughing, skipping over towards the gas station across from the bus, no doubt to harass the others. "Honestly. This joint touring business is like taking nine mad male dogs during mating season and tossing them all together" Louis huffed, turning on the spot and  _oh._

He's doing that thing where he's smiling softly, cerulean eyes crinkled and sparkling and his expression is so soft, and Calum can't help himself, takes a step forwards and tugs Louis in, kisses him desperately and firmly and enjoys, relishes in the feel of Louis' soft lips, thick and firm against his own, ever so slightly chapped, working together slowly until Louis pulls back breathlessly, fixes Calum with a doting but worried look.

"What's up, Baby C?" he questioned, hands coming up, cupping Calum's cheeks, not resisting when he leans forwards again, fingers wrapping around Louis' wrists, kisses him once, twice, thrice until he feels like he's going to die without oxygen and pulls away, suddenly shy. Louis' hands are light as they cup his cheeks, fingertips soft and skin warm and Calum knows he'll miss this. Miss everything. It'll only be a few months. Nine at most but that's a lifetime when it means he can't kiss away the breath from Louis' lungs.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Did the boys say something?" Louis asks, pulling Calum closer, wrapping him up in his arms and Calum wants to stay there forever, would happily die of starvation like this. Calum shook his head, eager to defend his friends against Louis' wrath as he buried his nose in Louis' neck, inhaled the scent of after-shave and sweat and the underlaying musk that was just  _Louis._ "No. I was just thinking.....I'm really going to miss you" is what Calum finally plucks up the courage to say. 

Apparently it's the right thing to say, because Louis steps back slightly, keeps an arm around him as he begins to lead him back through the bunks until they reached Louis' one. It was obvious it was Louis' because there was a little penis with a smiley face drawn on the wood panel above it in marker (And while it was Harry and Zayn renowned for always having at least one Sharpie on them, it was Louis renowned for drawing peens on things and people).

"Eastside or westside?" Louis asked, and Calum was confused for a moment because that was usually the boys' nicknames for Louis and Zayn, before he realized Louis was asking if he wanted to be against the wall or on the outside and he flushed, feeling dumb as he looked down, scuffed his shoes against the carpet. "East" he mumbled and Louis smiled, (gently) pushed him into the bunk and waited until he was laying down and comfy before he crawled in after him and instantly cuddled Calum in.

Something crackled under their heads and Calum froze, one eyebrow rising to his hairline and Louis grinned sheepishly. "Harry stashes snacks  _everywhere._ There's a packet of Skittles he hid in Madison Square Garden that have been there for two years now. Nobody can figure out how or when he does it. But he leaves candy around the bus for us" he explained, patting the pillow, which crackled again and Louis squirmed, hand vanishing under his head before he pulled it back, revealed a pack of Revels. 

Despite himself, Calum giggled, took the packet and tossed it down by their knees as he snuggled up against Louis' chest, relished in the sight of the grown man before him, changed from a bubblegum pop boybander to a punky, walking piece of fine ass. He was going to miss this, he realized. He was going to miss waking up with a Sharpie penis on his cheek or 'Property of Tomlinson' scrawled across his spine. He was going to miss waking up in a suffocating cloud of Lynx and Louis and he was going to miss the sass that kept him hot on his toes, kept him stepping lightly lest he start another all out prank war.

Before Calum had realized it his throat was closing up and tears were hot in his eyes and Louis was leaning down, gave a soft "Hey, hey" and kissed his cheek, kissed a trail to the corner of his mouth then kissed his eyelids lightly. "I'm just going to miss you so much" Calum managed to choke out, thick and pathetic and Louis hummed gently, cuddled him closer, one hand possessive and firm on the small of his back, the other cupping the back of Calum's head. "I'll miss you too, Baby C" Louis murmured, kissing his cheek again.

Calum lay his head against Louis' chest, listened to his heart, and after a moment Louis began to sing quietly.

" _Baby, you don't have to worry_  
_I'll be coming back for you, back for you, back for you, you_  
_Lately, I've been going crazy_  
_So I'm coming back for you, back for you, back for you, you._ "

And Calum smiled, raised his head a little to kiss Louis only before he could Louis tapped his nose lightly. "Boop".

It made him blink, but then he giggled, kissed Louis anyway and squirmed until he could wrap his arms around him, squeeze him as tightly as he could and Louis cried out mockingly, acted suffocating to death and lay lolling against Calum until the Kiwi gave in, ducked his head and nipped the tip of Louis' nose. The older boy gave a shriek, snapped his head up and nipped at Calum back but missed. 

"And I lost myself in blue eyes,  
Drowned in an ocean that stole my breath from my lungs  
And tore my heart from my ribs.  
And all the while I was looking at you,  
And I lost myself in blue eyes"

Calum sang back, Louis' eyes crinkling at the corners as he kissed Calum's cheek, dragged him even closer in the small space and snuggled him happily, nosed affectionately at his cheeks. Calum didn't even notice Louis ripping open the Revels until Louis started lining them up on his cheek, kissed his nose and told him to stay still. It was hard, Calum kept grinning at Louis was slap at him with a "Noo!" every time he did because it made the Revels fall everywhere and eventually Louis gave up, kissed the colour smears off Calum's cheeks.

It was peaceful after that, feeding each other a Revel now and then, Calum snuggled up to Louis' chest with his arms tight around the older mans waist. He could feel the Sharpie on his skin, smooth and flowing and cool and could imagine it staining his skin, the black ink shiny and sleek. Louis was probably drawing a penis. Calum didn't care. He was so comfy, felt so loved that he dropped off to sleep with Louis kissing his temple and ink flowing over his skin like water. 

When he awoke, he was shirtless and on his stomach and alone but Zayn was looking down at him, phone in hand, smiled and handed it over and Calum flicked through the pictures. The entire lyrics to Back For You were scrawled in neat italics from his shoulders to the line of his belt and there was a little penis on his bicep with a smiley face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd toss in that Baby C is actually one of *my* nicknames but it suits Calum adorably so wth :3


	13. And We're Chili And Chocolate But The Burn Is Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin]
> 
> Michael likes to push red buttons. Ashton's red buttons.
> 
> {{Prompt: R  
> I NEED AIR *fans self rapidly* so hot:)))Youre really really good at writing,like you're strong in different styles(so far angst,teeth-rotting sweetness and smutty goodness aye) So I'm gonna request and hopefully maybe you'll do it?  
> So like I was kind of intrigued where in chapter 9 Ashton apparently fucked Michael against the hood of his car because he pissed him off(OMFG) and so,maybe you could write that?I'd really love to be surprised with how the whole thing turns out if you wrote it based off your imagination,but if you don't take prompts like that then...I dunno.Sorry if I'm being so unclear:( But your writing is legendary anyways:)xx}}
> 
> (Rough sex - Top!Ashton - Bottom!Michael - Biting - Cake are awkward turtles - Anger - Kinky sex - Outdoor sex - Hair kink - Car sex - Slight dom/sub - Mikey's a little shit - He's also Ashton's bitch - Daddy kink - Spanking - Praise - Choking - Breathloss - Calum is a good friend - Luke's a startled newt)

Michael Clifford is a little shit.

It's been previously and well established. They all know it. Everyone knows it. People they've never met know it. 

 He was becoming sassy and stoppy and a little bitch and Ashton loved it every bit as much as he hated it, forced a scowl everytime Michael pouted at him or threw a hissy fit. He was acting like a spoilt little brat and Ashton wanted to hold him down, show him what happened to bratty boys who didn't listen. He was walking around half-clothed all the time, showing off shallow collarbones and thighs Ashton wanted squeezing around his waist. 

Ashton felt terrible for it, he really did. All the time he wallowed in guilt. Because he got angry that he couldn't have Michael. But he couldn't help it. Especially now, staring helplessly at Michael. Michael, who looks like he's dressed with every intent to get laid tonight. And...and Ashton wants to be the one to make him moan, wants to be the reasons Michael walks with a limp in the morning. 

Michael looks...he looks divine. Perfect. It makes Ashton want to cry. He's wearing 50/50 jeggings, red tartan on one side and black denim on the other. Wearing a red Dr.Martin style boot on the black side with red harness strapping on it, and a black boot with red harness strapping on the red side. He's got a black Nirvana shirt on and a red plaid overshirt left open, sleeves rolled up and Ashton wants to lick his tattoo, feel the stained skin under his teeth. 

And it makes him angry, because he knows that tonight, someone who isn't him is going to get to pull those jeans down over his ass, knows someone else is going to bite his lips swollen and red. Wonders if they'll even bother kissing Michael or if Mikey will just be another bathroom fuck for them. Made him want to crowd Michael against the wall and break him down there and then. But he didn't. He just grinned, wolf whistled alongside Calum and nodded approvingly before holding the door open for them all. 

Luke cast him a knowing look, quirked an eyebrow but Ashton just smiled sweetly at him, shook his head subtly and carried on walking once Luke had taken over door holding duties. Ashton walked fast to keep ahead of Michael, strolling along with Calum as they headed for their favorite club,  _Ultraviolet._ It catered to all sexual preferences, so the boys could dirty dance with boys and the tabloids couldn't blow up about gay clubs. It wasn't a long walk, just through town and then a little bit further north where most of the nightclubs had set up base, far from the normal grocery stores and houses.

 _Ultraviolet_ lived up to it's name. It's sign was glowing lilac and scrawled in neat italic. It's outside was painted a pretty, medium shade of purple while the detail like the pillars and the doorframes were a dark, deep purple. Even the line ropes were a nice shade of violet. It was pretty and classy and it was why the boys liked it so much. Another good thing about it was because it was on home turf, the boys were well known and could just walk on in.

Which made the way Michael fluttered his lashes and smiled coyly at the bouncer completely unnecessary. It made Ashton tense, frown for a moment before he settled, waved at the screaming girls in the line before he ducked past the purple rope and into the club, was blasted in the face by hot air and the tang of alcohol, to a thumping bass that his heartbeat tried to chase and he grinned, all anger and jealousy long forgotten. Bodies writhed everywhere, grinding and dancing to the beat and people just didn't care, and it made Ashton relax, made him grin as he left the sides and safety of his band-mates and headed straight for the bar. 

Calum tailed after him, leaving Luke and Michael to link arms and plow straight into the mess of bodies, quickly vanishing from sight. The thumping techno-dubstep around them vibrated through every surface, shook through Ashton's bones and wiped his mind as he leant against the glowing lilac bar and caught the attention of the girl behind the counter. Calum sank down next to him a second later, warm and solid against his arm and the lights around them turned his hair a deep purple and his eyes a bewitching shade of purple-black and if Ashton wasn't so besotted with Michael already he'd kiss him.

"Getting drunk before you've even danced?" Calum asked, voice teasing and raised to be heard over the music and Ashton flipped him off with a giggle, grabbed the shot of tequila and gin that the girl slid across to him and watched Calum pick up the second one, sniff it delicately and cough when he'd down it and he laughed, tossed his head back and felt the burn slide down his throat, heat up his stomach and scald his tongue and that was all he needed. He could barely wait until Calum's empty shot glass was on the counter before he was grabbing his friend, dragging him towards the dance floor.

And for a little while, dancing crazily next to one of his best friends with girls and guys plastering him in from all sides and the hot burn of alcohol in his stomach, he completely forgot about Michael. Spent his time tossing his hair side to side, shimmying his body and pretending to grind with Calum, waving his arms up in the air and staring with wide eyes at the bright lights that seemed to blur around him, spinning and it all seemed like a dream, didn't seem real and that was why Ashton loved clubbing.

Because once you stepped inside, you could become someone else. You were cut off from the world outside and he laughed as he buried his nose into the shampoo-scented hair of the girl next to him, spun her around and into Calum before he turned to the left, intent on getting a drink. He came face to face (more or less) with Michael a few paces away from him, locked in the arms of a brunette, tall boy with his head fallen back, grinding against him like he planned to get off there and then and Ashton tore himself away from the dance floor.

Leaning against the cool bar and feeling the colder temperature soothe the prickling heat on his skin he motioned for a number four on the drinks board, some random concoction called a Malibu Black-Out and when it came he downed it. By now everyone at  _Ultraviolet_ knew to just but the 5SOS boys' drinks on their tab. The burn was like fire down his throat and he tossed his head back, scrunched his expression as he swallowed then wasted no time in turning around, pushing back into the boiling hot mess of dancers and found his hips grabbed, stumbled backwards between a girl with bright pink hair and a boy with a flopping side quiff and grinned at them, turned himself to the side so they could bracket him in. 

He could hear Luke somewhere in the crowd, shouting out a "Hell yeah!" as a dubstep remix of Paradise by Coldplay came on and grinned, let his head fall back against the chest of the boy behind him, rolled his ass back against his hips as the girl shook what her momma gave her in front of him, hair cascading over her shoulders and Ashton thought that was the great thing about being bisexual. He could reach into anyone's pants and be happy with what he found. The neon lights around them made the people around him look varying shades of purples and pinks and he pressed his head back further, let his eyes close as the boy he was grinding against ducked his head, mouthed at his jawline with a blissful sigh.

After a moment he turned around, the girl laughing as she switched to grinding playfully against his ass, the guy reaching up to hold Ashton by the shoulders now and over his shoulder Ashton could see Michael pressed against a wall, cheek against the cool plaster and ass pushed back as some stranger mouthed at his ear, no doubt whispered filthy things as Michael's eyes fluttered and Ashton looked away, buried his face in the guys neck and bit down lightly, sucked hard until he thought he was going to tear the skin then licked over it, felt the vibrations of the guys moans against his chest and smiled slowly.

The girl was kissing at the back of his neck now, her hands on his hips as she shook hers against his ass, pulled him from the guy to turn him and kiss his cheek and then she was grinning, pointing off to the side and Ashton turned his head, saw Luke waving at him cheerfully and frantically, motioning for him to come over and he groaned, but the girl laughed, tossed her hair and kissed him, stole his breath and passed him onto the guy, who sucked his lower lip into his mouth, nipped the swollen skin and licked at his tongue before they pushed him into Luke's arms and were lost in the crowd and Ashton whined, dazed and horny but Luke was laughing, dragging him towards a booth where Calum was already waiting. 

"You can't get laid until you're proper smashed!" Luke shouted at him over the music, blue eyes glazed and his hair sticking up in all directions and Calum reached up, dragged Ashton into one of the seats and handed him a Sex On The Beach, downed his own clear drink as Luke picked up a gin and tonic and knocked it back and the burn was good, the burn was great until Michael suddenly fell into his lap with a laugh, mouth slick and kiss-swollen and his hair messed more than usual and the burn turned bitter.

"Weren't you going to get fucked in the bathrooms?" he asked sourly, slamming down his shot glass and Michael laughed again, rolled his hips and purred "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Ashton" and Ashton wanted to kiss him and strangle him. But thankfully Calum was shoving Michael into the seat next to Luke, handing him a bottle of water and Michael pouted but took it, downed half of it with his head tossed back and his eyes closed, cherry lips wrapped around the bottle mouth and Ashton had to look away, a different kind of burn pooling in his stomach.

"Stop being a twat, Mikey" Luke chastised him, but he was grinning as Michael blindly shoved at him and Ashton reached forwards, picked up another of the shots and downed it, eyes screwing shut at the unpleasant bitter explosion that sunk into his tastebuds, made his lips tingle as he tossed down the shot glass and Calum was watching him, gaze slack but brows furrowed and then Ashton was reaching for one of the bottles of water, downed nearly all if it and clumsily capped it again.

"Ashton's just being a grumpy bitch because we stole him away from getting laid" Michael was arguing, and Ashton scowled at him, rolled his eyes with a snark. 

"Blow me, Clifford" he bit back and Michael fluttered his lashes, puffed his cheeks slightly and fake-moaned "Only if you pull my hair" and then Calum was clearing his throat, tossing back a shot with Luke and Ashton stood, waved at them and picked up his water bottle before he headed to one of the other empty booths over the other side of the club, sank down in the plush leather with a sigh, let his hips cant up and his head fall back as he tried to relax his tense muscles, muttered a grumpy "Little bitch" under his breath. He stayed like that for a while until there was the sound of movement opposite him and he opened his eyes.

Settling into the seat opposite him was another guy, hair slicked back in a Moriarty sort of style, cheeks flushed but his eyes were clear and he was attractive in a generic sort of way, the kind of attractive you saw every day and was hot, but didn't stand out. "Thought a cute boybander like you shouldn't be all alone here" the guy grinned, his Aussie accent dulled as though he'd spent time away from Australia or as though he was new here and just picking up the accent. Ashton scrunched his nose, gave him a mock scowl. "I'm not a  _boybander_ " he huffed, thinking of all those stupid bubblegum boybands with trendy hairstyles and clean-cut behavior and the guy winked at him, nodded.

"Oh, I know love" the guy hummed back and Ashton found himself both irritated and interested by this guys sheer courage and blatant riling.

"What about you?" he found himself asking, head tilting, shifting so he was sprawled out in his seat, almost like an offering, a test. It worked; the guys eyes skimmed down, scanned him all over like he was a piece of meat to devour then skipped back up to his face.

"Machinery techie" the guy drawled back, tone like he knew his job was shit and was waiting for Ashton to say so but Ashton just hummed, smirked slowly. 

"Bet you're great with your hands, then" he purred, and the guy returned his smirk, shifted to splay his arms and made no effort to hide his trailing gaze over Ashton's body.

"You can tell me if you think so in the morning" the guy quipped, raising an eyebrow and Ashton opened his mouth to respond when two hands settled on his shoulders and there was warmth by his right one and he looked up, found Michael staring down at them both.

"Been looking for you" Michael greeted, voice just loud enough to the other guy to hear as he ducked his head, pressed the corner of his mouth to Ashton's cheek, looked him in the eyes as he spoke. 

"Yeah? Well now you found me so fuck off" Ashton murmured back, turning his head towards Michael, talking quietly so only Michael could hear him and Michael just stared back challengingly, one hand tight on Ashton's shoulder, the other resting in Ashton's hair motionlessly and the sexual tension (Or maybe it was just angry tension) was so thick it was stifling, and their eyes didn't leave each others, mouths close enough to kiss, breathing in each others breath until the guy opposite them stood, winked at Ashton with an ease that meant he didn't mind apparently being rejected.

"Looks like you're getting laid tonight" he commented, and was gone before Ashton could tear his gaze away from Michael, who slowly went from challenging to smug and that was the last straw.

Ashton shoved Michael away with all the strength he had, sent him stumbling back a few steps and shoved himself to his feet, stormed angrily towards the bar where Calum and Luke were sitting and he yanked them both up by their collars, let go of them promptly and stormed for the door and he could hear Luke calling his name, hear Calum noticing Michael but he carried on walking, trying to calm the boiling fury that burn through his veins like fire. Because  _how fucking dare Michael._

This wasn't like the other times. He was seething. Because now he knew Michael knew what he was doing. Now he knew Michael knew exactly what Ashton felt each time he acted like a brat, each time he sat too close or rolled his hips when he sat in Luke's lap and it made Ashton want to break something and break down in tears at the same time because  _Michael knew. Michael knew and he thought it was funny. He didn't care. He didn't feel the same way._ Calum had caught up with him already, tripping slightly in his haste. They were all tipsy but the water they'd all drank and the sudden cold air and tension around them had sobered them up more or less. 

Luke was hanging back with Michael, expression worried, tugging nervously on his lip ring as Calum dashed ahead but Michael appeared calm besides him, pleased even. 

"What's wrong, Ash?" Calum asked, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, slightly out of breath and Ashton didn't respond, walked a little closer to the comforting presence of his best friend when Michael shouted out from behind "He's just pissed and horny" and Ashton ground his teeth, saw Calum twist around and make a rather violent 'shut up!' motion before turning back and Ashton walked faster, stormed down the mostly empty streets and let the cool darkness around him cool the burning red on his cheeks and the sweat that dripped down his back. 

The walk was silent for a little while after that, until they reached their street and then Michael piped up again as he walked. "I mean, it's not like he doesn't get any. I know for a fact he and Harry  _at least_ got handsie with each other. And that guy has hands like a god, so I don't see why Ashton's being a bitch about some guy who wasn't even that good looking" and Luke, bless him, was trying to shut Michael up but the boy had fire on his tongue and courage in his heart and as they made their way down the driveway his voice turned almost daring.

"I mean, he could always just fuck one of us if he's  _that_ needy" and Ashton lost it, spun on his heel and snapped his arm out, eyes blazing as he grabbed a handful of Michael's flossy blue hair and yanked so hard it sent Michael scrambling and falling to his knees, one hand out to catch himself, one hand around Ashton's wrist in surprise as he yelped, hit the ground on his knees with a bounce and scattered almost face-first into Ashton's crotch, eyes screwed slightly shut in pain, mouth open before he opened his eyes, looked up at Ashton with wide, startled doe-eyes and parted puffy lips.

"Bet you'd fucking love that, wouldn't you?" Ashton growled, glared down at Michael and kept his wrist twisted so his grip on Michael's hair was a painful sting. "You were so eager to get bent over in  _Ultraviolet_ I bet if I bent you over right here you wouldn't fucking care, would you?" he spat and Michael groaned, couldn't tear his eyes from Ashton. Calum was squeaky when he stepped forwards, reached to touch Ashton only Luke tugged him back, huddled with him in the doorway, both of them uncertain and worried but they knew this had been brewing for a long time, could see it simmering each time Michael acted like a little shit. 

"You'd probably love it. You've been such a fucking  _slut_ lately you'd probably beg for me to fuck you right here" Ashton was lost in it now, the pent up anger and sexual fury steaming out of him like fire, and he didn't care who was watching, didn't care that Calum and Luke were dithering in the doorway, trying not to look while also keeping an eye on them and Michael gave a huff, the glazed look in his eyes dimming a little as he gave a pained, breathless laugh.

"You wouldn't have the guts. You're the good boy of the band" Michael responded, voice rough, teeth grinding together.

Ashton ripped him to his feet by his hair with one hand, barely gave Michael time to stagger to two feet before he was throwing him over the bonnet of his car hard enough that Calum flinched, that they all expected the alarm to go off but the night remained silent bar Michael's winded "Uugghh" as he hit the bonnet and bounced a little, hair flopping in a tidal wave as he ended up with his cheek pressed against the car and they all knew if Michael wanted he could fight back, but he wasn't and it gave Ashton more courage. 

"You're going to shut up, you little bitch and take what you're given. You've been slutting around for this for months and I'm gonna give you what you want. I'm going to show you what happens to bratty little shits like you who misbehave" Ashton growled, leant over Michael with his hips flush against the firm, round curve of Michael's ass and Michael whined, closed his eyes and exhaled and Ashton let go of his hair, grabbed his wrists and yanked Michael's arms behind his back, folded them across the centre of his spine and let go and Michael kept them there.

There was a timid "Ashton?" from behind him that he ignored, took a step back and dragged Michael's hips with him, sliding the boy down the bonnet until there was a gap between the car and his hips and then Ashton reached around, ripped Michael's belt from the buckles and tugged it loose enough that he could grab the waistband of Michael's trousers, yanked them down around his thighs.

"You think I'm all pent up and pissed off? I'll fucking show you what that means" Ashton snarled, but he was sort of calm inside, like he knew what he was doing, knew exactly how to play this out. 

Michael gave a whimper in response, opened his eyes and then parted his lips to talk but Ashton shook his head, drew a hand back and smacked Michael's ass so hard it sent the boys hips forwards, hitting the car with a quiet thunk and Michael yelped, tried to bite back the noise and trembled all over as Ashton's hands left him. 

Ashton reached into his back pocket, pulled out the little foil lube packet he'd taken with him tonight and then pulled out the condom packet, set them both on the car bonnet by Michael's head so the bander could clearly see what was going to happen and Michael's breath stuttered slightly, hips moving forwards an inch and he moved his arm, knocked the condom packet to the floor with a whine and Ashton caught his wrist. Went to scold him but realized what Michael wanted and instead turned the grip bruising and tight, yanked Michael's arm back behind his back. 

"You don't get to fucking move unless I tell you" Ashton warned, bending right over Michael to speak in his ear, bit the soft skin of his ear shell lightly and felt Mikey's breathy exhale under him, heard him moan "Yes Da-" and cut himself off, reached up slowly and ripped at a handful of navy locks.

"What was that?" he asked, keeping his tone carefully low, carefully angry and Michael gasped, rubbed his cheek against the cold metal of the car.

"Yes, Daddy" he murmured quietly, almost shyly but Ashton yanked at his hair again, growled "Good bitch" at him and then leant away again. 

Calum and Luke had eyes like saucers when Ashton glanced over his shoulder at them, and they looked away quickly, huddled closer to the door and Ashton looked away again, yanked down Michael's American Apparel boxers and ran his palms down the milky skin of his ass cheeks, smiled at the patch of redness right in the middle of them both and brought his hand back, slapped Michael again and held onto the warm skin he hit, heard Michael whimper in front of him. Reaching forwards, he grabbed the lube packet, took his hands away to rip it open and drizzled a bit onto one finger, reached down and roughly circled the tight ring of Michael's ass, slapped him with his other hand just as he pushed his finger in and Michael  _howled._

Ashton brought his hand back, slapped him again and growled "Shut up, Mikey" and pulled his finger back, felt the smooth wet heat of Michael's walls around his skin as he began to push his finger back and forth, felt the friction become easier even if Michael seemed to stay as tight as a vice and there was a cough from behind them but Ashton tuned it out, focused on kneading Michael's pretty, round ass as he finger-fucked him and then pulled his finger out, slapped Michael again for the whine it wrenched out of him before he coated two other fingers with lube, pushed his index one back in then curled it, moved his middle finger down and murmured "Good little bitch" as he pushed that one in too, felt Michael's body clench around him. 

Calum and Luke were all but forgotten now as he scissored his fingers, fucked Michael with them relentlessly and then he smirked, pushed in and up so hard it brought Michael to his toes, the boy crying out sharply, spine dipping in a smooth downwards curve as Ashton rubbed a fingertip over that sensitive little nub deep inside him, pushed his finger against it in time with another slap, this one just on the curve of Michael's ass where it met his thigh and Michael mewled, caught between moaning and crying out and his legs trembled, his breath fogging the car bonnet, mouth open in an O shape, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. 

Ashton added a third, fingering Michael until the boy was drooling pre-cum on the bonnet and couldn't seem to catch his breath and then he pulled his fingers out, heard a moaned "Please, Daddy" and shivered at it, used his dry hand to yank at a tuft of Michael's hair again before he grabbed the packet of lube, squeezed it all out onto his slick hand and reached down, one-handedly opened his belt and tugged down his jeans and boxers and then wrapped his hand around himself. There was a stuttered squeak from the doorway and a slightly worried "We're literally outside the house" that was quickly shushed and Ashton smiled slowly. 

 Reaching back down with slick fingers, he shoved all three in to the last knuckle, spread them fast and Michael yipped like a dog with a stood-on tail, Ashton pushing forwards and up so Michael was kept on his toes, ass in the air and Michael's pretty, pink little hole, slick was lube was threatening to go past Ashton's knuckles and there was a soft, warning "Ashton" from behind him, because Calum was an awkward parental turtle and had spent four days getting acquainted with any and every aspect of gay sex after he'd learnt Ashton was gay (bless him. He'd gone white for those four days but now he was always there should Ashton need someone to talk to - and Ashton loved him for it).

Relenting, to a broken sound from Michael, Ashton pulled his fingers out, leant forwards and pushed Michael's arms out to the side, slid his hands teasingly gentle down them, locked his fingers with Michael's as he draped himself tight over Michael's back and then yanked Michael's arms up and straight parallel to his head, ducked his head with a cheshire cat smile and sank his teeth into Michael's shoulder with a breathy sound, pulled back and left the dented skin to sting. "Still thinking about being a bratty, smart-mouthed little shit?" Ashton asked coyly, breath hot against Michael's ear.

Glossed over jade eyes opened slowly and met his own, the pretty green nothing but a millimetre-thin ring around a black pool as Ashton rolled his hips, let the velvet skin of his dick slide slowly up and down the crack of Michael's ass, felt the smeared around lube slick his path and brought Michael's wrists together as he let out a shaky breath, held them there with one hand and watched Michael suck in another breath as he reached with his free left hand, wrapped it around Michael's throat and lifted his head up, held him there tightly so he could feel the tufty, fluffy locks of hair against the exposed skin where his tank-top had fallen down, turned his head and buried his nose in bubblegum scented blue strands as he tightened his hold until he could  _feel_ Michael's breath rasping under his fingertips, could hear the strain and slight wheeze and that was when he canted his hips, began to push in.

He'd prepped Michael good, sure, but it still wasn't  _quite_ enough as he shoved forwards enough that the smooth head of his dick just seemed to get sucked into Michael's body and Michael's already struggling breath hitched, his cheeks red and his eyes glazed and seemingly lifeless, his lips were shiny and slick with saliva and obscenely red, puffy and bitten so much it was like he was wearing smeared lipstick. Michael was a slick, sloppy,  _tight, burning hot_ smoothness around him and it made him let out a breath he didn't really remember holding. Michael's eyes were rolling, because Ashton was so thick, so filling already and Michael just knew, knew he wasn't even in that far. 

Just when Michael started to get that shade into the passing out zone Ashton let his grip relax, kept his hand there but his touch light as he gave Michael a moment to catch his breath, watched him thunk his forehead onto the car bonnet and leave it there, breath quickly fogging the glossy black metal, a thin string of drool sinking from his lower lip onto the car. Ashton didn't mind. Once Michael seemed to have stopped gasping for air, he tilted his hips a little, peeked down to make sure he was still lubed up enough then reached forwards again, clean hand wrapping around Michael's throat again from the side and he leant down, licked the curve of his jaw then bit down as he slammed his hips forwards.

Michael howled again, a rough, long sound as he was forced further up the bonnet, lower lip sliding against the metal and leaving a wet trail, eyes squeezing shut. Ashton felt his bandmate clenching all around him and it was intoxicating, and Michael felt so full he could almost believe that it was Ashton's dick in his throat choking him, making tears well in his eyes and not his hand. He felt like Ashton had gone impossibly deep, like he was stuffed full of dick and he  _loved it._

" _Daddy_ " the word was rasped quietly against the startled squeak that came from behind, the sound of keys dropping ad Ashton gave a full body shoulder, ground his hips forwards just gently, felt his hips pushing at the full, plump roundness of Michael's ass, the two of them flush together.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll be choking on it," Ashton snarled once he'd pulled his teeth from Michael's jaw, took his hands away to put them on Michael's hips and Michael was near sobbing, chest heaving for breath but Ashton knew he was okay. Michael always let them know when he wasn't. "Be pretty hard for you to be a smart-mouthed little fuck then, wouldn't it?" Ashton levelled, relished in the weak glare Michael shot at him but Michael looked smug and Ashton wanted that expression  _gone._

So he dragged his hips back slowly, nearly moaned at the delicious, slightly catching drag of skin against skin and Michael whimpered at the thought of being empty again, tried to follow Ashton's hips and found himself risen on his toes again by a slap on his ass and a hand tight around his throat at the same time that had him yelping in pleasure and pain and they both heard Luke's soft "Shit, guys" from behind, payed no heed to the two guilty looking, scared looking, aroused looking boys huddled in the doorway, bodies turned homewards but eyes turned to their bandmates in almost child-like entrancement. Just when Ashton felt the soft curve of his tip catching on Michael's rim he changed trajectory, slammed back in with enough force that Michael wheezed, cried out roughly and clenched around Ashton like he was trying to cut off his dick.

Ashton moaned, reached for Michael's hair almost druggedly and yanked lazily but with intent on the smurfed up strands, relished in the way Michael let his head loll with the force, swollen lips parted, eyes rolled back and long lashes dusting his cheekbones. Ashton set the pace then, each forwards thrust resulting in Michael being forced onto his toes (eventually just staying on them) and short, hard tugs on his hair, Michael's long, slender fingers digging uselessly into the bonnet as he rocked back and forth on the smooth metal, head dropped down to rest on the now slightly-warm black, lower lip catching in the drool that slipped down his tongue as he gasped for breath.

Their breath fogged around them in clouds, as did their body heat as the sweat poured down their limbs, Michael's thighs slick and trembling, the shallows of Ashton's hips slippery with both lube and sweat. With each thrust Michael felt like Ashton was forcing his way even deeper, the smooth head rubbing relentlessly against his prostate and drawing out slurred, drunk "Fuck"s and keened "Daddy"s and breathless, raspy but high-pitched repeated "Uh"s that tingled down Ashton's spine as he let his forehead rest between Michael's shoulder-blades, caught a mouthful of skin and the back of his neck delicately between his teeth and gripped, like a dog scruffing the bitch it was mounting. 

Michael began to writhe under Ashton, trying to tug his hands free and Ashton bit harder, raised his head and moved his hand from Michael's hair and slapped him on the crease of the thigh again, held the skin bruisingly tight and cocked his head, voice breathless but smug. "What was that, Mikey boy?" he asked mockingly and Michael whined under him, rolled his hips back against Ashton's dick, choked on the fullness he felt, the pleasure burning through his veins and igniting in the space under his pretty little navel, felt Ashton's body go taut above him, pinning him down against the metal.

"Wanna see how much of a brat you can be when you can't even walk" Ashton growled, kept fucking up into Michael as the boy wailed beneath him, watched Michael slide on the bonnet like a rag doll and didn't care that Luke and Calum were watching. Didn't care that by now half the street was probably peeking through gaps between their curtains. He didn't even care if the tabloids splashed his and Michael's tanned (or in Mikey's case, milky pale) asses across every front page in Australia and Britain. All he wanted was to show Michael how much he meant to him, show him what happened when he pissed him off.

By now both of them were moaning, Ashton's teeth scraping light marks down Michael's pale skin as he mouthed half-formed 'I love you's' and 'Fuck, so tight, fuck, fuck  _fuck_ " breathlessly and he heard Michael whine below him, heard him keen a raspy "Please, Daddy" and Ashton near enough howled himself, fingers going bruising around Michael's slender wrists. He leant forwards as he fucked into him the last few times, mouth slack and eyes going cloudy as he desperately leant forwards. Mikey seemed to understand, let his head fall back as he chased Ashton's mouth, their kiss sloppy and more like just breathing against each other's lips and then Michael's mouth was forming a bruised, dark O shape and Ashton was biting down on his plump lower lip.

Thick, milky white cum splattered in a strangely pretty pattern across the bonnet of Ashton's car, Michael arching under him so his spine curved down and his ass pushed up and that was all Ashton needed, the orgasm like fire in his blood and white-hot ice in his stomach as he let his release inside Michael, both of them falling limp over the bonnet, bodies heaving and rocking together as Michael moaned softly, feeling the thick liquid pooling in his insides and he tipped his head up when Ashton tipped his down, nosed at him almost pleadingly and this time their kiss was slow and sweet, nothing but slick lips moving together in a sleepy, exhausted drag and that tenderness, that gentleness they both shared let all four boys know everything was okay.

Ashton pulled away after a second, leant back a little to rest his cheek on Michael's boiling hot shoulder, caught a glance of Luke and Calum, pressed against the door with their weight off-centre to hide their erections, eyes like saucers and cheeks flushed as they looked guiltily away and he smiled hazily, mouth almost too tired to move. 


	14. But Baby It's Not Nice To Tease If You Ain't Gonna Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Zianourry]
> 
> Zayn and Niall are impatient, Harry can sleep through the Apocalypse and Liam and Louis have a kink for wrecking the baby of the band.
> 
> {{Prompt: Lulu2  
> Hi I love your writing. Can you do a zianourry fic where the lads are all in bed after a concert and zayn and Niall are having sex and then Liam, Louis and Harry are having sex as well. Afterwards they are all cuddling and talking and being all cute. It would be great if you did this :)}}
> 
> (Sex - OT5 - Deepthroating - Spitroasting - Blowjobs - Handjobs - Cuddling - Dom/Sub if you use a microscope - Bottom!Niall - Bottom!Harry - Top!Others - Doggy style - Kissing - Fluff - Sweetness - Louis is bossy - Zayn's a sweetheart - Liam's Daddy D and doesn't think he'll fit - Harry is a size princess - Niall just likes getting fucked - Eating out - A little Harry centric I guess? - Somnophilia)

 They were exhausted.

Not just the tired where you know you'll go to sleep before you've even hit the pillow, wake up maybe a little sleepy but you'll be okay. No. This is the kind of tired where all their muscles ache. Their bodies feel heavy like lead and every step, every breath is an aching, sore chore. It's hard, even with the high of performing still igniting their veins to bring themselves to be pumped up about the show. They know it'll pass. It gets like this sometimes, when they're so low on energy they feel dead. Harry isn't even walking. Long ago Louis had noticed the baby of the band lagging behind, dragging his legs with his head dropped and had whispered something to Zayn.

Moment later and Zayn was walking, a pair of endless legs wrapped tight around his hips, arms wrapped around Harry's thigh with Harry's head lolling on his shoulder and his arms locked around his collarbone. It was a sweet sight and an exhausted Niall, trailing a little behind Liam (who was leading the group) had slowed down a little to stare and coo in a rather paternal fashion. Louis was looking on fondly, and it was clear out of all of them which two had started this....well. The only way to put it really was a five-way. An 'OT5' as the fans put it.

That and Louis (not so) sneakily leaving OT5 smutty fan-fiction open on his laptop all the time, in plain view of everyone. Harry had been scandalized, Niall had had a straight moment and Zayn had surprisingly just shrugged, looked around them and said "We're tight enough. I trust you all. S'no big deal". Liam had admittedly gone into Daddy Direction mode and spent the next few days flustered and coddling Harry to get a sense of...not exactly control, but something akin to that. Parental authority or order, perhaps. 

But the point is, they're all zombie walking through the halls of the hotel, having already fought past the hoard of fans waiting outside and it was astoundingly, comfortingly peaceful here on the fourth level, the rooms here pre-filled with little old dears and quiet couples or businessmen. And they all know they're going to get a good nights sleep. When they do manage to find their room, Niall produces the key with a smile and slides it in, twists it lightly then shoves open the door. The room is nice, large. Two king beds have been pushed together to make one giant bed and the interior is mildly fancy creams and beige-gold colours. 

Food is already laid out on an obviously brought in table for them, a light meal of bread, diced meat, slices of fruit and a large jug of orange juice (with a cup of milk, honey and sugar kept warm in a dish of hot water for Harry, to help him sleep as he was going through one of his homesick phases). Louis couldn't even bring himself to whine about the lack of english tea. Liam parted from their little penguin-huddle in the doorway first, heading straight for the duffel bag with their clothes for tonight and tomorrow morning in and pulled out a shirt and shorts. It was their usual sleeping attire and they'd given up trying to assert who owned what. In fact, he was pretty sure this shirt used to be Zayn's.

Louis moved next, going straight into the bathroom to wash off the make-up Lou had slathered him in before the show, the cream tacky around his hairline where he'd sweat throughout the show. Niall went straight to the table, taking a slice of bread and chewing on it as he began to strip down and Zayn went straight for the bed, turning and ever so gently settling Harry down on it, the lanky bean-pole boy rolling over onto his stomach and curling up with a happy sigh, already looking like he was asleep. 

It was quiet after that, the boys all swapping and changing as they went. Strip to boxers, have a quick strip-wash, change into bed clothes and sit at the table. Niall had to sort of tug Harry around since when he got tired he got stubborn, but eventually they were all sitting at the table, the air around them quiet. Niall was leaning happily against Zayn, head on his shoulder and Harry was completely gone from view, head lain in Liam's lap. At regular intervals Liam's hand would disappear under the table with a piece of food and come back up empty, the older lad hand-feeding his boyfriend.

It was nice, when it got like this. And by the time they'd all eaten, Liam had roused Harry vertical to drink his milk and the energy from the food was setting in, making them feel a little better as they all did another switch-swap routine to brush their teeth and hair, spray anti-perspirant and apply creams. By the time it was actually time for bed it was around ten to midnight and they were both energized and tired. But they all settled into the bed easily, with Zayn and Niall cuddling on the left, then Louis, Harry and Liam a little more to the right. They sometimes did this. Split into pairs or threes. Though they often woke up in a giant puppy pile anyway. 

Harry was clearly the tiredest out of them all because he impatiently waited until Liam was laying down before promptly nosing  _underneath_ the much larger boy and half-curling up before he was asleep within seconds, breathing in soft little puffs. Liam snuck a look at the others, raised an eyebrow and gave a little grin and Louis stifled a little snort, leant down and kissed Harry's cheek then leant up, gave Liam a slow, sensual kiss, all sucking on his lower lip and licking at the soft skin before he pulled away, blew a kiss at Niall and Zayn and tucked himself into the blankets, buried his nose in his pillow. Liam watched them all settle for a moment before stretching out over Harry, tangling their long legs together and letting his cheek rest on his soft curls, one hand resting over his bicep gently. Louis sniffled a little, rolled onto his side.

It was maybe...one, two hours later and Louis was still sort of awake. He was pretty sure he kept dozing, drifting off now and then but predominantly he remained awake and it was during one of those sort of awake times that was when he noticed it.

It so happened to be that the bed was moving slightly, and that there was breathy sounds next to him. That realization dragged him into a rumpled, sleepy alertness and trying to remain as fakely-asleep as he possibly could, Louis turned his head a little, cracked open one eye and nearly inhaled his pillow at what he saw. In the darkness he could make out Niall and Zayn's forms. Zayn was behind Niall and they were both on their left sides, but what stood out to him most was that Zayn had a leg slung over Niall's hip, rocking up into him and gazing into Niall's eyes, Niall's head turned to the side to look at him with Zayn's hand covering his mouth to keep him quiet.

Louis hadn't been noticed, and so slyly he began to try and rouse Liam and Harry while also watching Zayn and Niall. They seemed lost in their own world, Zayn seemingly doing most of the work by choice but Niall was clearly trying to rock back but remain silent and not rock the bed. Breathy, desperate noises were escaping both boys and Louis found his blood trickling south as he carried on nudging and prodding at Liam, desperate now to wake him up. It seemed to work after a moment, Liam giving a snuffling sound and shifting and the rocking motions nearly stopped for a moment before carrying on and Louis turned his head, noticed Liam squinting at him blearily and did his best to motion with flickering eyes across to the two lads.

It got across after a few seconds, Liam managing to sneak a glance and then he suddenly had two eyes wide open, messy quiff making him look like a startled-pleased hedgehog and Louis couldn't hold back the snort, felt the rocking stop, turned his head to see Zayn and Niall staring across at them with classic caught expressions, Niall's making him snort again because the hand over his mouth just added to the effect and he winked at them, Liam popping his head up and winking at them too and they relaxed, winking back in unison as Zayn started up again, slow and sensual now he had an audience. 

Louis turned his head, motioned down to Harry at Liam and raised one hand, stuck his tongue out between two fingers for the universal 'eating out' sign and Liam understood, shifted off the still sleeping boy and to the side so Harry was laying between him and Louis now. Slowly and tenderly, Liam pushed up Harry's shirt, began trailing feather-light, slow kisses on Harry's shoulder blades. Niall was whimpering now, grinding back against Zayn as best as he was allowed, eyes wide and rolling as the pleasure coiled white hot in his stomach, Zayn thick and fulfilling. 

Louis wriggled down and to the side on the bed, tapped Liam's thigh and silently asked for help, aware of Ziall staring at  _them_ now as together they spread Harry's legs, propped him up on his knees and slid the fabric of his boxers down over the voluminous curve of his ass and he was so tempting Louis couldn't resist, reached forwards and squeezed and Harry didn't move, slept on peacefully with his head turned to the side, lips parted. Louis couldn't resist a fond, smug smirk as Liam went back to the kissing and then he gently leant down, stuck his tongue out and licked a slow, fat stripe up the pretty, pink little curl of Harry's ass and flicked his eyes to the side, noticed that Zayn and Niall were watching, their movements distracted. 

Louis carried on his actions, hands gripping Harry's plump ass-cheeks, squeezing gently as he kitten-slow-lapped at Harry's hole, tongue slick and hot against his skin, eyes fluttering as he ground his hips down against the bed. Harry was still sound asleep, eyes tracking behind his lashes, hips still held up off the bed but Louis could see he was ever so slowly starting to get hard, slowly staring to give visible reactions to Louis' eating out. Zayn was breathless now, pupils blown larger as he watched Liam's huge hands over Harry's broad shoulders, watched Louis bury his face in his ass with enthusiasm, grinding against the bed and Niall was so hot, so tight and slick and smooth around him it made him feel like he was going to blow there and then. 

The baby of the band was twitching now, fingers shifting against the sheets, hips twitching and abdomen and thigh muscles jumping as Louis tongue-fucked him, ate him out like a famished man and curled his tongue, tried to open up Harry as much as possible though not too much, because although he didn't want Harry to actually get hurt, he loved watching the boy writhe and twitch and just  _open_ for Liam's huge dick when Daddy Direction could be convinced to fuck him. He could hear the slick sounds of Zayn rolling into Niall, could feel their owl-ish gazes on him and it made him preen.

Louis pulled back, mouth slick and smeared with saliva and Zayn's hips stuttered, Niall groaning long and low against his palm and Zayn took his hand away, stilled his movements because he knew what was going to happen. Knew by the glint in Louis' eyes and the amused but slightly concerned expression on Liam's face as he pulled away from Harry's shoulders. The youngest lad was amazingly still asleep, albeit still a little twitchy and restless, hips shifting like he didn't know what to do and then Louis was grabbing the lube, winking at Zayn and Niall as he slicked up his  _hand._

"You're not gonna...?" Zayn couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't even think straight and Louis giggled, shook his head. "Don't worry. I wouldn't hurt my baby boy like that" he hummed, reached down now and slowly sank two fingers straight into Harry's ass. There was barely any resistance, Harry hot and smooth and slightly slick around him, tighter than a death grip around his fingers and Louis lost his breath,spread his fingers slightly and was pleased by how he had to strain a little to do so. No matter how long you spent opening Harry, it seemed like it never did much. Hell, Louis had  _fisted_ him more than once and every time it was like sinking into him dry afterwards. 

Harry was breathing faster now, making little soft noises, hips giving tiny little rolls, hands fisting in the sheets besides his head and Liam reached down, ran a light hand over the curve of his ass cheek. Niall promptly swore, rolled back against Zayn needily and nearly bit him when Zayn didn't respond with more than a tiny hip rotation. He knew why, agreed with it but wished against it at the same time. "Liam.." it was said as an acknowledgement. As a recognition. They all knew Liam was going to fuck Harry this time, and Zayn's hips stuttered again, rocked up into Niall slowly but surely and Niall whined again.

Louis was fingering Harry slowly and carefully, twisting and prettily rotating his wrist, one hand on Harry's hip, leaning right over his boy as he scissored him open. It was when his fingers found Harry's prostate that the youngest sort of woke up, giving a sharp little sound, eyes opening sluggishly but Louis instantly plastered himself to Harry's back, began to stroke his curls and his cheek and cooed at him gently until he shut his eyes again, carried on fingering him open but avoided that little sweet spot. He wanted Harry to wake up to getting fucked.

Liam was still gently petting at Harry, his free hand pressed against his crotch to try and stave off the hot coil of lust burning low in his stomach. He felt a little guilty. Knew Harry was shattered and wondered if they were perhaps being a little cruel or wondered that maybe Harry wouldn't want this. Would want actual sleep but he was torn away from his thoughts by Louis tapping him, motioning and he leant to the side, looked down to see that Louis had his hand gone into Harry up to the knuckles and let out a slightly squeaked exhale. 

They'd all fucked Harry, at one point or another. Louis had been the first, Harry's boyfriend practically from the first time they saw each other in the queue for the X-Factor. Zayn had been the second, when they went on their first proper tour. Niall had been a little shyer about it, danced around it for months with fancy dinners, nights out to clubs and movies until Harry had practically jumped him. Liam had been the last, too worried about his size, didn't know anything really about the sex lives of gay people or even that he actually liked his new brothers as more than brothers until Louis and Harry had approached him, made it sweet and tender and sensual and Liam had been lost, drowned like a man at sea.

They'd figured it out, in the end. Louis and Harry were gayer than the word itself. Zayn was Bisexual. Niall didn't care what someone was as long as they were good on the inside as a person. And Liam...Liam was a sort of grey area. He'd never considered it before. Always found himself dating girls. Then after the night with Harry (And Louis to help) he'd found himself looking at men, trying to find attraction. Figured maybe it was just because he was so close to the other boys that he found them sexually attractive, too.

All his thoughts were gone when Zayn suddenly moaned, snapped his hips up into Niall and shuddered, fell still with a gasp and Niall was swearing again, burying his face into the pillow and Louis smirked, grabbed the lube and smeared some around Harry's rim again before handing it to Liam. "He's ready, big boy" Louis purred with a wink, shuffled to lean back against the headboard by Harry's head and lifted it gently, set Harry's cheek on his thigh. Zayn had pulled out of Niall by now, their chests heaving, draped over each other as they stared in fixation at the scene before them. 

They loved it when the lads put on a show for them. 

Liam hesitated only a second or two, shuffled to his knees to slip off his boxers. He was rock hard already, the head flushed and a soft pink, a tiny bead of pre-cum glossing. Louis had an idea, pointed to the lamp and covered Harry's eyes with his palm. Liam got the hint, leant over and flicked the light on.

There was a soft muffled sound from Niall, Zayn breathing out loudly and Liam wrapped a lubed hand around his length, slid his hand up and down lightly, a thick coat of lube making the velvet skin shine, ran a fingertip lightly up the vein on the underside and shuddered at the slightly tickly jolt of pleasure. Louis was grinning up at him, palming his own erection through his boxers and a quick glance across at Zayn and Niall showed that amazingly, they were seemingly starting to perk up a little again.

He winked at them, then nodded to Liam. Liam nodded back, almost shyly, and crawled forwards. His hands were gentle, light as they carefully eased Harry's boxers all the way off then spread Harry's legs again, his huge hands splayed on Harry's milky thighs, pushing them wide apart and then bending them at the knee a little to give Harry balance. He then moved him by the hips a little, angled his ass more in the direction of Zayn and Niall and heard Niall's soft "Jesus christ" as he lined himself up, let Harry's plump ass-cheeks hold them in place as he took Harry by the hips.

Louis watched carefully, waited until Liam had Harry in place and then he reached down, gave Harry a light pat-smack on the cheek and tugged at his curls, slid his hand down his broad chest and pinched his nipple hard and Harry twisted under him a little, grunted softly and slowly, slowly opened deep jade eyes, squinted up at him and Louis grinned down at him, nodded once sharply and kept his gaze locked on Harry's. 

Liam took the hint, using his hold on Harry's hips to literally  _pull him back onto his cock,_ felt Harry open up around him slowly at first as he kept pulling Harry back, the youngest's mouth falling open, spine arching and hands flying out to grab the sheets either side of Louis' knees, holding tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. Liam pushed his own hips forwards a little, shuddered as the head of his dick suddenly just  _sank_ into Harry's body and suddenly there was a sloppy, hot tightness around him and he had to stop for a moment. 

Niall had eyes like saucers and he'd crawled forwards a little, was laying on his stomach to watch them now, dick already getting a little harder and Zayn was the same, crawled over Niall and draped himself over his body, nosed at his hair as he panted, watched with rapt attention. 

 Harry had his head up and back a little, mouth dropped open, eyes scrunched up, face a picture of bliss, hands gripping Louis' thigh now as he moaned silently, pushed his ass upwards like a stretching feline and Liam groaned, rocked his hips a little more and there was a slick sound as he slid in another two inches, tight, perfectly sloppy heat swallowing him inch by inch. He went as slow as he could bear, not wanting to hurt Harry but despite his gentleness and the amount of prep gone in, Harry still whimpered after a moment, lowered his head to nuzzle against Louis' crotch and Louis cooed at him gently, tugged his curls to distract him.

Niall was panting harder now as he stared, eyes blown with lust and Zayn was zeroed in on Harry's ass, let out a huge exhale in time with all of them when Liam bottomed out and then stayed there, having pulled Harry back onto his dick until his ass was snug against his hips and Zayn rolled his own lightly, felt Niall spread his legs a little wider. Harry felt like he was choking, stuffed so full Liam was in his throat but he was thick and hot and heavy inside him and Harry never wanted to let that go.

Zayn nosed at Niall again, guided the blond into crawling a little closer and Louis watched them with a wicked look in his eyes, nodded at Liam who began to rock his hips barely an inch, moving just a little to help that extra stretch and Harry shuddered, raised his head again and- " _Fuck_ " it was Louis who swore. Harry looked fucking  _wrecked_ already. All glossy eyed, his mouth plump and shiny and swollen, his cheeks flushed and curls wide but he looked so eager, so fond. Louis ground his palm against his erection then stilled, had an idea.

He glanced across at Niall and Zayn, who perked up under his gaze in interest. "I want you to cum all over him while we fuck him from both ends" he voiced, loud enough to be heard all around and Liam's hips stuttered, shoving Harry into Louis' lap another inch with a soft moan from both. Louis smiled slowly, inched his hips up to tug down his boxers and his erection was hard and heavy against his stomach, standing to attention with a little pearl of pre-cum on the tip. It was flushed pink from neglect and Harry licked his hips, body rocking as Liam began to move in earnest now.

"Go ahead, baby. Get your treat" Louis hummed, leant back and relaxed and felt kind of like those assholes in movies as he took a hold of the base of his dick, guided it to Harry's mouth and Harry opened readily for it, tongue sticking out like it did when he ate before Louis was shoving into his mouth. Not too deep, because he had to sing soon, but deep enough to hit the back of Harry's throat lightly and he groaned loudly, Harry a wet warmth around his dick and he had to hold him back from just grabbing a handful of curls and fucking Harry' throat until he was choking. 

Liam's abs were near trembling now, curved over Harry's body and Zayn was near to grabbing Niall and fucking into him again because it was so, so perfect. Harry's slim body arched downwards between them, ass pressing upwards into Liam's hips and navel, sprawled in Louis' lap with his face stuffed with cock and Niall clearly agreed, if the way he was grinding against the bed was anything to go by. Then Liam ran his hands up Harry's sides, ran them back down and grabbed a handful of hips again, yanked Harry up onto his knees with pure arm strength and leant over him, chest to shoulders. 

Niall recognised it, squirmed from under Zayn to crawl up to Harry's side and get on his knees, wrapped a hand around his now fully hard erection and moaned filthily, began to stroke himself slowly, thumbing the vein on the underside as the pleasure began to heat up his skin. Zayn laughed, but didn't hesitate to do the same the other side of Harry. Harry was bobbing his head now, cheeks hollowed out with the outline of Louis' dick against them and he was sucking like it was his last breath, eyes fixed to Louis'.

Liam was properly fucking him now, like an animal as he draped over Harry, hips snapping back and forth with a brutal pace that made Harry's ass-cheeks bounce, the skin red and abused but Harry was moaning like a whore around Louis' dick, fighting to stop his eyes rolling because it was like Liam was stuffing him full, ramming into his throat and he felt heavy with it, listened to the moans and pants around him and all Liam could feel was the pleasure of Harry's smooth walls around him, tight and hot and making the pleasure burn through his veins, coil low in his stomach and make his thighs tense.

He could barely get out a choked off, gutteral sound when suddenly he was cumming, thick and hot inside Harry and Harry whined, rocked back against him but Liam kissed at his shoulder, kept on rocking inside him and Niall reached down with his free hand, rubbed the pad of his thumb over the slit in Harry's dick and that was all it took for Harry to cry out around his mouthful, spine arching upwards almost painfully and he came all over Niall's hand, sticky and warm and thick. Niall grinned, squeezed his dick a little and raised his hand, used his tongue to lick it all off. Harry's cum was always practically sweet, due to the amount of fruit he ate.

He kept it on his mouth, leant over and put a hand on the back of Zayn's head to pull him in, kissed him slowly and let the cum mix between the two of them, coating their tongues and slipping between their mouths, hot and slick and slow. Louis was making soft, desperate "Uh, uh, ohhhh, uh"'s now, hips jerking up and Harry was limp between them all save for holding himself on his forearms so Louis could fuck his throat. Liam had pulled out by now, almost apologetically massaging at Harry's red ass-cheeks and Zayn suddenly jerked, bit down on Niall's lip hard as he came, coating Harry's curved spine with thick, creamy ownership.

Louis followed not long after, grabbing two fistfuls of curls and shoving Harry down onto his dick, hips snapping up. He came deep in Harry's throat, the baby of the band swallowing his treat with exhausted eagerness and the sight had Niall shaking, pumping his hand faster until his cum mingled with Zayn's, formed a pearly pool in the small of Harry's spine.

It took them a while to muster the energy to move, their muscles like jelly again, their heads hurting a little but they all crawled together once Liam had gotten a cloth to clean up, puppy-piled at the center of the bed under damp sheets with noses tucked into necks and limbs wrapped around each other. Harry was asleep almost instantly, after a hoarse "Thank you" that had Louis barking out laughter until Niall shushed him with a sweet little kiss. Liam smiled drowsily at them all from where he was laying with his head on a pillow. He had one hand on Harry's shoulders, thumb stroking back and forth, his legs tangled with Zayn's as he cuddled him from behind, nosed into slightly damp ebony hair and Zayn reached back, ran a hand over Liam's mussed quiff and smiled sleepily. "Love you guys" he murmured, and everyone echoed him quietly.

The room was humid now, the sounds of regaining breathing filling what had previously been a near silence. "Could you imagine how the fans would react, if this got out?" Niall asked after a moment, voice laced with stunned humor and Zayn snorted softly, nodded into Harry's neck. "We'd have two halves. One are the ones who ship us all anyway and would happily watch our porn and the other half of all the under 16's who'd get locked in their rooms without internet access by their parents" he responded quietly, and Louis gave a sleepy giggle. "It's kind of weird, sometimes. Knowing there's people out there who write porn about us and stuff" he mumbled, and Liam shrugged.

"Yeah, but kudos to them. Have you seen it? I've seen fan-fiction of  _Teen Wolf_ that's better than the actual show" he hummed gently, and there was a quiet murmur of agreement through the boys. Harry stirred a little, rolled over and snuggled against Zayn and Niall made an affronted nose. "Not good enough for you, huh you little twink?" he questioned the sleeping boy with a mockingly offended voice and the others had to stifle a giggle.

Niall's affrontation didn't last long before he was reaching over, almost guiltily running a hand through Harry's curls. "Next time, Niall, I'm gonna make you ride me until you cry" Louis voiced, out of the blue and Niall scoffed. "Someone's got an ego bigger than his package" he grinned, and Liam giggled. "That'd be hard for  _me_ " he interrupted, and Zayn snorted gently. "Show off" he mumbled sleepily, and Liam pouted at the back of his head, leant forwards to kiss his cheek gently. "On our next day off, we should all go to the beach. All five of us. Rent some place out, have about a hundred security guards keeping everyone away and just chill" Zayn added after a moment, and once again there was a murmur of agreement.

The conversation stemmed from there of all the things they'd do ("Kick your ass at surfing again, Louis" -Liam and "I'd wait until you fell asleep then sculpt a wang around you" - Niall) until there was a lull, a quietness that had their eyes slowly closing and they all squidged closer together, huddled up under the covers like sleeping puppies and one by one dropped off to sleep.

(Paul nearly broke his nose turning away when he came in to wake them up because they slept through their alarm, and he had to carry a sleepy, sore Harry into the car ("I do  _not_ want to know and I am  _not_ asking!") but they spent the whole drive to the next hotel cuddling and talking about a day out to the beach and as he always did, he felt like their proud father.)


	16. The Picture Gallery (Not A Story)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few pictures to show things from the different stories like the clubs 'Fantasy' and 'Ultraviolet' and the like.

_Fantasy_ and  _Ultraviolet_ from Chapters 4 & 13:


	17. Kittens Get Toys If They're Good Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin]
> 
> It's rare, to see him like this. As pliant as a sleeping kitten, soft and sleep-warm and practically begging for each little touch.  
> They love it.
> 
> {{Prompt: Elena  
> Your writing is soooo good and in my opinion you write about Mikey's soft SOFT hair sooo well so maybe you could write about how Mikey's like all innocent after waking up(naturally,instead of the boys concocting different ways to wake him up),dragging his pillow along and since there's no space on the couch he sits on the floor yawning and the boys start to stroke his hair and he fucking purrs and then it all escalates from there.I think I'm using too many ands sigh.Youre brill and thanks if you ever write this:)}}
> 
> [Sleepy!Michael - Soft!Michael - Sleepy Sex - Slow Sex - Lazy sex - Cuddles - Fluff - Purring - Fussing - Petting - Bottom!Michael - Sweater paws - Cute smut - OT4 - Foursome - Orgasm denial if you squint - Top!Others - Hair kink - Mikey's hair is silk - Slight biting kink - Hickeys - Like, BIG ones - Mikey's their baby - Butt plug - Because I suck at writing fingering - Sort of voice blocking/denial - Luke likes to fuck Mikey with a hand over his mouth]

It's about mid-day, Australia, and it's been around maybe...Oh, they don't know.  _Fiery pits of Hell ºC_ and it was like they were living in the Devil's ass crack up until about two hours ago when the temperature began to drop steadily until now it's just warm and the sweat that caked them in thick layers is gone. Three out of four of 5 Seconds of Summer are lounging on the couch lazily, with nothing to do for this week bar enjoy themselves and this rare time off. Calum is in the tiniest tank shirt he can fit into, the material leaving an expanse of stomach skin and lots of shoulder skin visible.

Luke had his head on Calum's short-clad thighs, bored out of his mind but too alert to sleep and he had his legs slung over Ashton's lap, the older boy with his head back against the couch, attempting to count all the little spiks of paint on the ceiling. Calum can hear him lose count every now and then, curse softly and start all over and he knows with Ashton's attention span he could be there all week. Michael has yet to show his face, but that's to be expected. 

While the other boys had been so used to their early starts by now they'd all been up before eleven, Michael's body refused to let go of any chance to lie in it got and so the boys didn't expect him to wake until tea time, though how he had slept through the morning heatwave had been so intriguing they'd all snuck up to peek through his bedroom door, saw the covers on the floor and Michael on his stomach in nothing but boxers and a faded Yankee shirt, starfished with his hair pushed back and his lips parted and it was as amusing as it was adorable.

"Hey, look,  _The Princess Diaries"_ Calum hummed, remote in hand and he turned his ebony eyes to his boyfriends, raised a questioning eyebrow. "Eh. The dude in the band is hot. I'll bite" Ashton responded, thankfully deciding to call it quits on the spik counting. Luke hummed incoherently but shoved himself to sit up between them, slung an arm around their shoulders and leant back comfortably, spreading his legs a little to cool between his thighs. Ashton raises an eyebrow at him, licks his lips teasingly at Luke scrunched his nose at him, turned his eyes back to the screen. _  
_

They hadn't been watching long. Maybe fifteen minutes when there was shuffling from upstairs. They all looked at each other, shared a knowing expression and turned back to the TV, hummed softly. The shuffling carried on, slow and unhurried and soft and there was running water then a dull thunk, then more shuffling and then the sound of feet padding softly like a small child's on the carpeted stairs. Michael Gordon Clifford was officially awake. The boys turned their attention back to the film as the light sound of padding feet came closer, all of them relaxing back into the cool fabric of the sofa.

There was a soft, almost kitten-ish sound from the doorway and three heads turned. Michael stood in the doorway, a sleek, white-cream sweater drowning him, slipped down over one shoulder (Both bands had given up on trying to keep track of clothing. They just kept their favorite stuff packed and let the rest run wild). His hair was like a little cloud on his head, dangling in his eyes and sticking up all over the place as though he'd been licking a live wire, though more at the front it was flat where he had been laying face-down.

He was wearing above-the-knee yoga pants, sleek back fabric that was soundless as he moved and he was dragging his special pillow along behind him, body hunched over, eyes half-shut and lips parted with sleepy, huffed breaths. His steps were shuffled and in short, he looked like a sleepy toddler. Calum barely managed to suppress a soft cooing sound and Luke's eyes never left his boyfriends as Michael seemed to almost sleep-walk towards them. Ashton frowned after a moment, a realization dawning on him. There was barely enough space on the couch on a good day. On a hot day with all of them sprawled out to get air between their bodies, there was no hope unless Michael sat or lay on them. 

But Michael didn't seem to notice or care, or it didn't seem to be his objective anyway because he shuffled onwards, gave them a droopy smile and dropped his pillow between Luke's shoes and flopped down on it like a tired dog. He took a moment to get settles, three pairs of eyes never leaving him as he squirmed where he sat, arched his spine then finally let his head fall slowly back between Luke's knees, eyes closed, cherry lips parted and he looked so  _soft_ and  _cuddly_ and  _sleepy_ and his boyfriends just wanted to scoop him up, cuddling him until he was whining that he couldn't breathe. 

 Mikey let out a soft exhale, lashes sweeping at his cheekbones and slick tongue slowly swiping over his lower lip. His fringe was fluffy and straggly over his eyes like a horse' forelock and Calum wanted to run his fingers through it, watched Luke close his legs a little to give Michael something to rest his weight against and Michael hummed, lazily cracked open eye and glanced up at them with a drugged, deep green and then shut his eyes again. Ashton cooed and Luke shifted a little, tugged down one pant leg a little. 

Calum nearly snickered at that, but it was suddenly so peaceful, so cosy that he didn't want to ruin the air of quiet around them. Michael seemed to doze off again after that, head lolling against Luke's left knee, hair flopping down over his eyes. It was long and blonde again, Michael finally giving in to the boys' concerns about how his dyeing addiction would possibly make him bald by the time he was twenty. He'd grown it back like it had been when they first started touring with the One Direction lads, all forwards-flopping and wispy and fluffy and the boys  _loved it._

It bounced prettily, sexily when he walked, slid stubbornly over his eyes when he sat or moved and it was the colour of spun gold. It was thick like Harry's and when he let it curled a little at the ends and the boys had spent hours before now, running their fingers through his long tresses and feeling the strands of silk sliding under their touch. Luke seemed to give in first, reaching his hand down and burying his fingers into it, stroking back and forth slowly, twisting and tugging the locks in the way they all liked. 

It was barely noticeable at first, a good couple of minutes after Luke had started but it was there, and Ashton noticed it first, scrunched his brows and looked around, then seemed to brush it off only to look confused again after a moment. Luke seemed to notice it a moment after Calum did, a soft, barely audible rumbling sound, soft and stuttery and Luke moved his hand from Michael's hair, muted the TV and they sat, heard nothing but the clock ticking and the cars and birds outside. 

"Must have been the washers or something" Calum suggested, shrugging lightly and the other boys nodded, unmuted the TV and Luke buried his hand deep in Michael's hair again. A few seconds after he started tugging on the thick handfuls he had, using both hands now, it started up again, louder and Ashton sat bolt upright, looked at the others. "I'm not trying to be funny, but I think there's a cat in the house somewhere" he stage-whispered and Calum cocked his head, listened intently. 

The noise was exactly like a feline purr but slightly deeper, and Calum glanced at the other two. "It sounds too close to be a cat. If it was, we'd see it" he responded, curiosity twanging his accent even thicker and it seemed to click at once, all three of their heads snapping down to stare at Michael with almost comical realization tinged with disbelief. Ashton patted at the remote, hit the mute button and Luke kept his hands buried, tugged on a lock of hair and Michael's breath hitched, the purr low in his throat stuttering for a second before resuming in time with his chest rising and falling and the three others nearly suffered a hernia.

_Michael was purring._

They all looked up, wide eyed and caught between cooing and palming suddenly awakening erections as the deep, rumbling sound carried on and it was then than Calum leant forwards a little, noticed the way Michael sat with his legs bent and socked feet flat and his hips pushed forwards, spine curved and he  _knew._

"Michael's plugged" he whispered, and Luke's hand tensed in Michael's hair, made the boy purr louder for a second, all sleepy and slow and stuttered with his breathing and his face was relaxed, all cherub cheeks and plump, bitten lips, long eyelashes dusting milky cheekbones with hair covering jaded, closed eyes. It became clear after a moment though that he was awake when he shifted, eyes opening. He squirmed on the floor, whimpered when his shifted made the lug drive upwards and he opened his eyes wider, let out a deeply purred exhale. 

Luke was smirking now, hands moving in Mikey's hair and Ashton could see he was twisting and tugging the strands near the roots, tugging at the silky gold and leaving Michael breathless as Mikey gave a yawn, little tongue sticking out and curling before he closed his mouth and Ashton cooed. The boys all leant back in their seats, ceasing the sexual teasing as they turned their gazes to the TV again, Luke's hand now just smoothing lightly through Mikey's hair. The boy still purred, moving now to nuzzle his cheek against Luke's knee, slender, long arms coming to wrap around his knees and ending in floppy sweater paws. 

The sweater was white and a sort of cashmere, furry type fabric, all sleek and slightly fluffy almost. It hung low on his collarbones, exposing the deep, milky dips and it was a little lopsided, hanging baggy around his stomach with the hem high on his left hip. It became apparent he'd lost his Yankee sleepshirt when he shifted, yawned once more with his nose scrunching and one sweater paw coming up half-heartedly to cover his mouth (and the lower half of his face).

Halfway through the Princess Diaries, there was an advert break and Luke seized the chance, bent down and put both hands under Michael's armpits, hauled him up with surprising body strength. Mikey just seemed to accept it, went limp and trusting in his hold with his head lolling, looking across at Calum with a sleepy, fond expression as Luke tugged him so he was sitting on his thighs, then gently man-handled him around.

It ended with Mikey's long, hairless legs slung over Ashton's lap. His ass was on Luke's, and his head and shoulders balanced carefully on Calum's thighs, head hanging down over the other side a little, hair sliding, then flopping backwards. Luke pushed up his jumper a little, revealed a long, slim torso and began to gently rub his fingers back and forth over the skin under his navel. Mikey's spine curved upwards in happiness at the touch. 

Ashton had a hand on Michael's right leg, thumb going in half-circles over the smooth skin and Mikey was purring once again under the attention. Calum smiled fondly down at him, reached for his hair only to stop when Mikey yawned again, tongue sticking out and curling like a cat's before he buried his fingers in the silk strands happily. The sexual tension that had sort of developed was suddenly gone, everything just...comfortable now.

Calum was stroking through Michael's hair like a cat's, the boy soon fast asleep again, fluffy hair falling over his eyes. It was so good now it was long and sleek again. Michael was still somehow purring and Ashton reached up, put a hand on his chest and felt the vibrations like he could feel them at a concert and smiled happily. "He's so cute" he murmured, and Luke gave a nod of agreement, rubbed his palm back and forth along Mikey's tummy like he was stroking a cat, felt the muscles flex with each breath. 

Michael seemed to wake up a little a few moments later, one arm sliding off the couch to pat lazily for his pillow, which he dragged heavily up and placed behind his head, rolled over onto his stomach over their legs and buried his nose in it with a disgruntled whine. Calum instantly returned to petting his hair, Ashton began to stroke his long calves again and after a moment, Luke's hands settled over Mikey's plump ass. It stayed like that for a while, Michael half curled into Calum's lap 

Then Luke's wandering, rubbing hands slid over the butt plug and he stopped, cupped his hand over it and raised an eyebrow, cerulean eyes lighting up. Ashton watched him cautiously, raised an eyebrow of his own but he was struggling to hold back a smile all the same when Luke uncupped his hand, began rubbing back and forth over the plug with his palm in inch-long snappy strokes. It took a moment but suddenly Michael was shifting, sleepy and questioning as he lifted his head a little, looked squintily over his shoulder at Luke and then Luke was cupping both his ass cheeks, smiling innocently at him. 

Calum smiled down at Mikey, reached down and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, rolled him gently onto his back and supported him against his chest almost like holding a baby, placed a finger under his chin and tipped his head up, lowered his own to breathe against Michael's mouth for a moment, lock near black eyes with bright green ones before he pressed their limps together, plump skin pressing firmly, smooth and soft and warm and Luke nudges Mikey's legs apart, reached between them and pressed the plug up a little, watched Michael's chest jump with a hitched breath. 

Calum kept kissing him, slow so Michael could breathe but breath stealing all the same, licking slowly into his mouth and tugging lazily at his lower lip, working his lips against his boyfriends and Ashton rubbed at his thighs now, ran his palms over the milky skin and they all knew what was going to happen, were all expecting it when Luke eased Mikey's boxers down, ran his fingertip lightly down the underside of Michael's already flushed dick as Ashton tugged his boxers down the rest of the way. When Luke took full hold of the plug and in one fluent motion pushed it in as deep as it could go, watched Mikey jolt in their hold, bite down on Calum's lower lip with a squeak. 

Luke smiled, glanced across at Ashton who dutifully understood, slid out from under Mikey's legs and ran for the stairs to grab the lube while Luke carried on slowly fucking Michael with long, slow pushes and pulls of the plug, watched Mikey lose his breath against Calum's mouth. Ashton came back, bouncing with sudden energy, cheeks already flushed. Mikey was back to being slow and sleepy already, snuggled against Calum's chest dozily. It amazed them all, how he could be so responsive while practically drooling.

The lube was handed to Luke, who took his hands from the plug to coat three fingers while Ashton began stroking Mikey's legs, kneading and touching the soft skin. Michael was kissing Calum lazily, breathing stuttering at Cal's hands buried in his hair, tugging and stroking gently and then he was shuddering as Luke slowly eased the pretty, glittery plug out and watched Mikey's hips jump an inch, looked smug. Everything was wondrously calm, slow and easy and even lazy. There was no rush. No haste. 

First three fingers shiny with lube, Luke pushed them straight into Mikey's hole, felt how tight he was, smooth and hot around his skin and the longing to make Mikey ride him grew about tenfold. Slowly, he began to scissor his fingers, thrusting them shallowly in and out just to coat him with more lube and stretch him that extra little bit. "Think Ashton should get you first"Luke breathed, looked up to find Mikey nearly konked out against Calum's chest again, blinking across at him dopily with swollen, slick lips and hooded eyes, fringe across his face. 

"Then Calum. And you know how good our little Callie fucks you, Mikey" he carried on, almost casually as he shoved his fingers in as deep as they could go, rubbed his fingertips in tight little circles over the little smooth nub of nerves he could feel, watched Michael's legs fall apart and his thighs tremble, muscles pulling taut as his hips lifted a little. Luke relented. 

Michael was gaping at him now like a bewildered, flustered emo squirrel, panting lightly with his long lashes catching on his honey hair and Calum reached down, cupped his cheek and rubbed his thumb over the line of the bone with a gentle touch. Michael glanced up at him, gave a shaky little smile and let his head loll, whining just slightly as Luke pulled his fingers out slowly, careful not to hurt his boy. He picked up the lube and handed it over to Ashton, who looked at him almost in thankful amazement. 

Sitting back, Luke stroked Mikey's thigh with damp fingers as he watched Ashton lean back and lift his hips up, Pushing down his shorts almost fumblingly fast, Luke watched in amazement as Ashton's hard on slapped up against his stomach with a soft sound. Ashton was never one to be shy about thing like being naked. Neither really was Michael. Calum had loosened up after he gained confidence from the fans, and Luke followed their lead, now no longer shy about himself or what they had.

Ashton slicked up his hand and then with a touch light enough that he didn't get too much from it, wrapped a hand around his dick and gave it two loose strokes until the velvety skin was shiny with lube, and then he took his hand away, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. Luke wiped his hand on his own jeans and reached for Mikey. Calum helped him, the boy slightly floppy in their grip, hair like an ocean wave as they hauled him upright like a baby over Luke. The only help Michael gave them was to spread his legs and lift one so Luke could pass him over and settle him so he was straddling Ashton's lap as Ashton's hands went gently to his hips.

"If you're good maybe I'll pull your hair as I fuck you" Ashton smiled up at Michael, voice lilted and smile sweet to betray his words and Mikey shuddered, shifted to push himself higher up as he dropped his head to Ashton's shoulder. Michael spread his legs wider when he felt Ashton reach down, gave a soft, almost peaceful sounding sigh when the smooth, round tip was pressed against his hole. Enough pressure to provide a sort of indent on the ring of muscle but not enough to actually push in. Ashton just held himself there, and after a moment Michael slowly blinked, then realized what Ashton was waiting for and resting his hands lightly on Ashton's shoulders he let himself sink down slowly.

Ashton, bless his soul, always liked to let Michael lower himself down because he was always worried about that first stretch and burn. It wasn't that he didn't trust himself. He just went by 'the bottom knows what's best'. Mikey gave another sigh, but it was slightly shuddered, spine bowing as after a moment it went from pressure to just Ashton suddenly sliding in, thick and huge and heavy and hot. There was a sudden spark of burning sensation, the stretch much more than three fingers.

Ashton gave a soft whine, head falling back as he took his hand away. He could feel Mikey's hair like sheets of fluffy silk against his cheek and neck and his breath in hot rolls across his shoulder and, and  _fuck_ he was just so warm and so fucking _tight._ It was like sinking into hot honey and Ashton let out a shaky sigh, fingers tightening on the soft fabric of the jumper. Calum's breath hitched behind Luke and he reached back, grabbed his wrist before he could get a hand on himself.

It was only a few moments before Ashton was reaching down, hands cupping Michael's ass, leaving red marks on the globes of milky skin as he pushed Mikey up his body a little, spine curving and hips dipping so his ass was pushed upwards and outwards. Ashton turned his head, buried his face in Mikey's silky hair and pressed his hips back against the couch, sank into it a little and then slowly pushed his hips forwards and Luke leant forwards to look. It was such a pretty such. Mikey's ass, so huge and plump. Enough to rival Tomlinson's and his rim and slick and shiny and red already, Ashton's cock just  _sinking_ up into him.

Ashton shuddered again when he bottomed out once more, his own fingertips brushing his thighs where they held tight to Mikey's ass cheeks and Michael made a soft noise against his neck, eyes shut and hands in little fists. There was a soft "Don't let him cum" from Calum, and Ashton nodded shakily, breathed out then pulled his hips back, let his spine curve and  _slammed_ back up with enough force that Michael was jolted against him, rising a little higher on his body and they both let out a deep, crooked exhale.

Ashton shifted, let his head fall back because he was buried so  _deep_ and Mikey was just so hot, so tight and better than any girl had ever been and his hair was so fucking  _soft_ on his skin. Hands tightening on Michael's ass Ashton held him in place there as he began to fuck up into Michael like he was just there for it. Michael's mouth was open against his neck, the boy limp in his hold, slumped against his chest with his head tipped upwards and eyes shut, face a vision of explosive pleasure. After an embarrassingly short time Ashton could feel the liquid fire burning through his veins, pooling hot under his navel and coiling like an angry snake and he whined lowly.

Burying his head down and to the side into Mikey's hair, that was what lost it for him as one hand flew to Michael's hair, grabbing and holding tight like he would be lost forever if he let go and Michael gasped, spine arching as Ashton's other hand pushed his ass down, held him there like a bitch as Ashton shook, a choked off moan half dying in his throat as his body went into a white-out, nothing but blank pure pleasure and Mikey, caught between the pain-pleasure from his air and being still so full, being bred full of Ashton's cum was nearly bent in half, expression pleading and plump, thick lips slick and swollen and parted as he panted. 

When Ashton opened his eyes again Mikey had ducked right down like a pretty, submissive little bitch to try and ease some of the stinging pressure on his hair, gazing and gaping up at Ashton who flicked his damp curls to the side moved his hand from Michael's ass to give him two pats to the cheek that were more like slaps. "So pretty, Michael" he cooed. And most of the time Michael would smack at them, huff angrily and say he was  _punk rock_ but now he just blinked up at Ashton.

It had become a sort of unspoken agreement that Luke always got Mikey last, perhaps because it had been Luke who had started all this, or even because while Luke was the youngest he was actually one of the kinkier, bossier,  _Daddier_ types. But whatever the reason, it had Luke and Calum reaching for Michael, pulling him slowly off Ashton's still plump cock and dragging him across Luke's lap, Michael half-crawling to help them along. 

Calum's length was already freed, standing up against his stomach proud and eager but all the same Calum was tender and sweet, cuddling Michael to his chest for a few moments as he stroked his hair and smoothed down the baby-ish strands, kissed most of the slickness from his lips and ran his fingertips lightly down the soft white wool of the sweater Michael was wearing, careful not to touch Mikey's hard-on. "Okay, baby?" he asked quietly and Michael blinked up at him dopily, smiled slowly and nodded.

Luke watched fondly, both hands on his knees, firmly away from his aching erection which was still fully clothed, and Ashton's head was a comforting weight on his shoulder, the hand over his navel teasing but mostly there for comfort, Ashton's thumb absently rubbing back and forth as they both watched the scene go from dominating and kinky to sweet and slow. Calum was like that. Under all the nakedness and the Not Asian shirts, he was a total teddy boy. 

"Up you get then, babe" he hummed, put his hands over Michael's ribs and gently helped him move until he was straddling his lap again. This time however, he had his hands on Mikey's hips as he gently and slowly lowered him down once Michael had lined them both up. Michael was slick with Ashton's cum, still hot and creamy and open to the entry and though he was a little rubbed and achy, he was so used to taking three in a row now that he didn't flinch or wince, just gazed lovingly down at Calum as he watched him let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open as tight, hot wet heat surrounded him.

It ended with Michael basically sitting on his hips, flush with skin on skin and the soft hem of the jumper brushing Calum's thighs. "Gonna fuck him real sweet, Cal?" Luke asked, only a hint of teasing in his voice and Calum sat up a little, leant to the side without shuffling Michael around and kissed Luke slowly, tugged on his lower lip and took the lead and made him shut up before he pulled back with a slick suction sound and looked back up at Mikey, raised one hand to run it through his hair as he rocked his hips up just an inch and Mikey took the hint, planted his hands on Calum's hips and began to slowly ride him. 

Calum breathed out, looked up at Michael in complete adoration as Mikey rolled his hips and swirled them, all calm and flowing and slow as his eyes fluttered and he let his head fall back, silky hair sliding over Calum's fingers. Calum smiled, began to run his fingers through Michael's hair as he surged upwards, kissed the long, milky column of his throat then closed his lips over the soft skin, began to suck lightly and run his tongue over the reddening, then purpling skin.

Luke watched with a fond smile, Ashton's head lolling on his shoulder as he reached up, rubbed Ashton's cheek gently like one might absently pet a cat. Ashton snorted softly, but he was enraptured with the sight. It was like something out of a movie, Mikey leaning back, hair silky and floppy and lips parting with a long exhale as he rode Calum, Calum's skin glowing and dark against Mikey's ivory skin. He watched to capture this forever so he did, took out his phone and took a picture, smiled when he noticed that Mikey's sweater had slipped a little and that both of Calum's hands had gone to his hair. 

"Weirdo" Luke muttered, but he was smiling and leaning to get a look at the picture as Ashton began to fiddle with the filters. Ashton gave him the finger, but was too fuck-sleepy to do much else. The soft gasps and the shuddered, quiet moans from the two boys besides them was lulling as Luke turned his head back, saw that Calum was rocking up into Michael slowly now and marveled at how even now, when all of his muscles were tense with the want to just  _take_ that Calum was still going slow. Michael was making breathless, uncontrolled "Mmmph"  sounds now, jaded eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling and Calum snapped a hand away from his hair, snaked it up Mikey's jumper and squeezed the base of his dick tight so he couldn't cum, listened to the pleading whine it drew. 

Calum began to speed up, though he looked apologetic about it as he bounced Michael lightly in his lap, felt the muscles of his fantastic arse against his thighs and the pleasure building, stacking impossibly high and Michael was warm and solid in his grip, wide-eyed and looking at him with so much trust and Calum's near black eyes had melted like chocolate in the sun, hair messy, skunk patch blending in with the ebony strands like someone had splattered him with paint. "P-Please cum inside me" Michael whispered then, voice voice but soft and it was the first time he'd spoken and Calum nearly howled, threw his head down and buried it in Michael's neck, bit the skin over his collar-bone as his movements shuddered then stopped, eyes squeezing shut and voice cracking then going silent as the pleasure shot through his body like electricity. 

Michael was pliant and fuck,  _shaking_ against him now, thighs trembling with the burning desire to cum and the strain of riding for fifteen minutes as he whined softly, dropped his head to Calum's and clutched at his bare biceps in a scrabbling manner, wanting to hold but eager to get to Luke because he knew Luke meant he could finally,  _finally_ get a release and he felt like an addict. But then he supposed, the boys  _were_ his drug. 

Calum seemed to know that Michael was wanting, because he pulled back, slumped against the couch and reached up to push back his hair to cool off. Luke was smiling almost smugly, verging on a smirk as he caught Michael's wide, weak stare and he opened his arms as though welcoming a little kid in for a hug. Michael, shaking with relief, ever so slowly leant forwards as he started getting off Calum and suddenly there were white smears and pools and streaks over Calum's thighs where the lack of fullness meant Ashton and Calum's cum was leaking out and Luke tutted. 

Michael hesitated, but at Luke's nod of reassurance carried on, dragged himself into Luke's lap like a dog who'd been told off for doing wrong but was pleading for forgiveness and he instantly knew what to do, lay his head on Luke's hip and shut his eyes in comfort as Luke's hand buried deep into his hair, rubbed at the golden strands with a heaviness that conveyed affection. "So good for us, baby. So pretty Mikey" Luke grinned down at the older boy, half of his face hidden by his mop of hair. Michael smiled, lazy and small and Luke softened, patted his chest lightly.

Michael was limp and clumsy and tired, and it took a few moments for him to sling himself across Luke's lap, flopping against his chest with a deep but peaceful sigh, hair splaying out over Luke's shirt and across his shoulder and Luke twitched the end of a lock, watched it flutter and rustle against the rest and smiled fondly. Michael was purring, deep and jagged and un-even from lack of breath but purring none the less and he looked so fucked out, so limp and used and raw and spread-out that Luke couldn't resist, began to stroke his thighs soothingly and toy with the hem of his jumper like a promise. 

"Took Ash and Cal like a proper little bottom, Mikey. Such a pretty little kitten for us, yeah Princess" he began to talk and Michael tipped his head, listened intently as he got his breath back and began to stop trembling, began to relax even though his hard-on was aching and neglected and his ass was tender and red. "Gonna get you off nice and good, okay? Going to take care of you" he murmured, coaxing him to sit up and then he turned Michael around until his back was against his chest, reached down and with his palms he slowly pushed up the soft white fabric to reveal softer, ivory skin.

Michael's head fell back against Luke's shoulder, hair flopping over Luke's own half-flat quiff, eyes shut as he spread his legs obediently, felt Luke thick and hot and heavy against his thigh as Luke pulled himself out of his shorts and boxers and smiled almost smugly because he was getting what he wanted. Luke hummed softly, neatly folded Mikey's jumper up around his ribs so it didn't get soiled then moved his left hand to the back of Michael's head, grabbed a handful of thick, glossy hair and held Michael's head back, throat exposed for him, used his other hand to cover Michael's mouth so he couldn't beg for it, then pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

Michael took the hint and reached down, wrapped his hand around Luke's dry cock and then Ashton's fingers were skimming over the backs of his own and he cupped his hand, felt Ashton squeeze a blob of lube into his palm and gave a muffled sound, hoped it conveyed his thanks. Calum gave what sounded like a giggle but it was weak as he was too lost in watching Michael's hand wrapped around Luke's cock, tugging and holding tight as he stroked Luke almost lazily, coated him nice and slick. Deciding enough was enough, Michael arched his hips up off Luke's, breathed out hard through his nose as the damp, hot head pressed firm and round and big against his used hole and then he was sinking down shakily, one hand on Ashton's thigh to support himself. 

Michael was sloppy and a little loose,  creamy hot around his dick as he sank down on him and Luke hummed lightly, felt the hair on his arms stand on end as Michael lowered himself down, plump ass flush with his hip-bones and he tightened his hold on Michael's hair, listened to him moan brazenly and let his legs fall open wider. Calum's hand settled on his left knee, Ashton's on his right, keeping him open for Luke. "Shh now, kitten" Luke smiled, heard Mikey start purring again as he began to run his fingers through his silky hair, rocked up into him slowly for a few thrusts before he shifted in his seat, bit into Michael's neck and laved his tongue over the blossoming-red skin.

Dusting Michael's canvas of a neck with sharp little nips, Luke punctuated each with a hard thrust upwards that had Michael bouncing lightly against his hips, pressing back against his chest, spine arching and nose bumping against Luke's ear. Luke was so  _big_ and he was so full already, felt so painted and thick and stuffed and he shuddered, pleasure that had been shaded painful some time ago now coursing through his veins like acid, singing every bit of body it touched and he was burning hot, flushed all over and sweaty and the side of his neck was on fire from Luke's  _teeth._

Calum watched, thought it was strange in a way how watching your bandmate get fucked like a mafia whore came across as sweet, leant forwards to find Ashton half-asleep against the couch arm, gaze fixed on Michael and nearly laughed. Bless his little heart, all sleepy and curly and kid-like but still desperately watching like a twelve-year old on a porn marathon.

Michael was moaning almost constantly now, Luke panting against his neck through sharp bites and gentle scrapes of teeth over bruising skin, hand tight over Michael's mouth and grip like iron in his hair. He groaned when Michael began rolling his hips like he was riding a horse, nearly let his hand fall from Michael's mouth but then Michael's noises turned fast and pleading and a little panicked and he sped up, fucked into him freely and felt Michael arch over him like a bow-string. It was how Mikey clenched down around him that did it, the sheer black-out of pleasure that glossed over Michael's eyes and made him go slack and lifeless and shuddering in Luke's hold that had Luke crying out and sinking his teeth into Michael's shoulder, eyes fixed on where Michael's dick, red and untouched and neglected absolutely  _coated_ Michael's chest in come, the thick white cream dripping and drooling over defined abs and Luke could almost imagine his own come doing the same to Michael's insides, coating his heart with love of his own and he leant up, kissed just under Mikey's ear. 

"Love you, baby".


End file.
